


In Judgement

by i_canz_kill_dragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:56:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_canz_kill_dragon/pseuds/i_canz_kill_dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“It’s like it’s turned against me. My magic. It hates me. That’s why I do this. That’s why I change every night now. It’s trying to kill me.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Cursed to transform into a horrific, violent Beast every night, Merlin comes to Camelot to seeking a cure from his mother's friend Gaius. He does not expect to find destiny instead. Canon AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Judgement

Merlin could tell as soon as look at them that they were druids.

For a start they _looked_ strange – their attire was like nothing Merlin had ever seen before, long robes of browns, reds and greens – but above all they _felt_ strange. They felt magical.

“We should leave,” Will whispered beside him.

“Why?” Merlin didn’t want to go. He’d never seen anyone else with magic in his whole life. He felt a powerful urge to run into their camp, declare he was a sorcerer and run away with them for the rest of his life.

“In case they see us!”

“What are they going to do? They’re druids, they’re peaceful,” Merlin said.

“Yeah but I bet they still don’t appreciate us spying on them,” Will said. “They live in hiding, no one’s supposed to know where they are. What happens when they see a couple of country boys found their secret forest hiding place?”

“It was an accident, they’d understand. We didn’t mean to find them we were just running away from field work.”

“Yeah but I bet they still can’t risk their secret getting out. Who knows what they’d do to us?”

“Probably nothing,” Merlin insisted.

“Including not taking you,” Will said, reading Merlin’s mind. “You have to be a druid from childhood Merlin.”

Merlin sighed. “Fine let’s head back then.”

They raced each other back to Ealdor, shoving each other, Merlin quietly eager to tell his mother what he’d found. She might know more than Will about druids – Merlin had had the impression since childhood she knew more about magic than she let on, and didn’t tell him for fear of encouraging him.

“Wait, wait, stop!” Will laughed, just as nearly burst through the trees back into valley of Ealdor. “We have to go around so we come in by the fields or else they’ll know we skipped out on planting.”

“They can’t prove we did that anyway, I already planted all the seeds.”

“Yes but the idea is _not_ to make it look suspicious Merlin,” Will said, rolling his eyes. “Aren’t you meant to be trying to keep your magic secret?”

As it turned out, they needn’t have worried about looking suspicious. The entire village was crowded in the centre square, and no one gave either Will or Merlin a second glance when they wandered in, pushing their way up the front to see what had caught the village’s attention.

“Woah!” Merlin gasped.

A group of men and two women stood there, performing juggling tricks – the village oohed and ahhed as the group juggled first balls, then eggs, then, out of nowhere, swords.

Merlin and Will clapped along with all the rest, as they then began performing acrobatics.

Merlin scanned the crowd for his mother and began shoving past the other villagers to reach her.

“Who are they?” he asked when he got there, news about the druids forgotten.

His mother opened her mouth to answer but before she could, the group finished and took a bow to great applause.

“Thank you,” Matthew, the unofficial village leader said stepping forward. “Though we are but a poor outlying village. We do not have the coin to pay gypsies, or enough food for you for a long stay.”

“They’re gypsies?” Merlin asked his mother.

“Arrived this afternoon,” she replied, “while you and Will were planting the back field.”

She gave him a glare that he knew meant she had somehow guessed about using magic to plant the field.

Before he could defend himself the gypsy leader was answering.

“That is quite alright,” he said in a booming voice, “for we are travelling through to the great city of Escetia and require only accommodation for one night.”

The crowd tittered.

“If you would be so kind,” he continued, unconcerned at the village’s disbelief.

“We would be happy to arrange something,” Matthew replied.

In the end, the gypsies ended up setting up their caravan in the fields closest the village. As Ealdor was a small town with little gossip and even fewer gypsy visits (in the order of none) they were the talk of the town the whole night.

Merlin stayed out late that night, happily speculating with Will about who they were and why they had chosen to come this way, until hunger drove him home.

“Why do _you_ think they’re here?” he asked his mother as soon as he’d sat down to a bowl of gruel.

“Oh not you too Merlin. I don’t know. This town is on the border of Camelot and Escetia. It’s natural that we should see some people travelling from one kingdom to another.”

“But we’ve never seen any before,” Merlin said, “I can’t believe it’s on the same day as the druids too. Oh! I forgot to tell you!”

He regaled his and Will’s discovery of the druid camp, deliberately stopping his story in some places so she would have to ask for more, in an attempt to start her talking about druids and what she may know of them.

His mother was unmoved by anything however except what he was doing in the forest when he should have been planting the back field, and after an unsuccessful attempt to wrest the conversation elsewhere, Merlin ended up consigned to bed early and forbidden to ask questions about gypsies _or_ druids, as punishment for using magic where anyone might see.

The following day the village was an explosion of gossip. Apparently Old Man Simmons had been woken in the middle of the night by his (rather weak) bladder, and having gone outside to relieve himself, discovered one of the gypsies in a compromising position with a village girl named Bessie.

Merlin and Will happily volunteered to spy on the gypsies until they left that night in the name of the propriety of the village girls, a suggestion met largely with rolled eyes and shaken heads that did nothing to discourage them from doing so anyway.

“Merlin,” Will whispered down at him from the tree branch above.

“What?” Merlin whispered back.

“I’m getting cramps.”

“That time of month?” Merlin asked mock sympathetically, and Will threw a pinecone at his head in response.

“I’m _bored_ ,” he hissed. “They aren’t doing anything interesting and they probably know we’re here.”

“They weren’t going to bring Bess back to camp in daylight,” Merlin agreed. “Alright, you first.”

“ _Me?_ You’re below me!”

“Yeah but that bottom branch is really unstable and I want you to be the one it breaks on.”

“ _Merlin_ –“ Will pelted another pine cone at him. “ _You_ go down –“

They continued to squabble until a huge crack rent the air and quickly silenced them.

“What was that?” Will whispered white faced.

“I dunno,” Merlin just had time to say, before the branch he was sitting on gave way and he was tumbling toward the earth.

“ _Oof,”_

Merlin briefly registered that it was lucky he’d landed on something so soft and squishy, when it began moving underneath him and he realised it was a person.

“Sorry!” he exclaimed, jumping up.

“I’m so sorry, here let me help you – “ he pulled the man to his feet and saw it was one of the gypsies, no doubt coming to investigate the disturbance in the tree.

“No matter, no matter,” the gypsy said, brushing himself down.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Merlin asked.

The gypsy smiled at him. “I’m fine. Perfectly fine, but thank you for your kindness.”

“Oh,” Merlin said, taken aback by the man's sincerity. “It was nothing, I mean, I didn’t really do anything....except land on you...”

“No no!” the man insisted. “Really, I must thank you for your concern. Many would have dropped on me on purpose and trampled on me afterwards rather than help me as you did.”

“Really?” Merlin asked, completely thrown by the gypsy’s gratitude. “Are gypsies hated then?”

“Oh very,” the man said.

“I can understand the feeling,” Merlin said in sympathy.

The gypsy’s grin grew wider.

“Quite,” he said. “Well, I must be going. But I would like to give you this as a token of my gratitude.”

He pulled out a large round iron coin, with rune carvings running all the way around the edge.

“Oh what? Really, I didn’t do anything.”

“I insist,” the gypsy said, putting the coin into Merlin’s hands. “Take it.”

“Well.....really, but I....”

“What’s this?” Will asked, finally dropping out of the tree.

But the gypsy simply nodded at him and walked on.

“So you got this for dropping out of a tree on someone?” Will asked scrutinising the coin once Merlin had told him what happened.

“Apparently,” Merlin said.

“Strange,” Will said, handing it back. “Still, might as well keep it, could be valuable. Come on, let’s head back before it gets dark.”

***

Hours later and happily fed, Merlin had been lost in daydreams of running away with a group of sorcerers come to Ealdor disguised as gypsies, turning the cool coin over and over in his fingertips when it happened.

A hot flush ran through his body as though someone was pouring molten fire through his blood. Merlin seized, but before he could cry out it was over – his temperature returned to normal leaving a thick sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Panting, Merlin sat still and alert, running a mental assessment over every area of his body. Just as he’d begun to relax into confusion, a jolt ran through him as though his body had been struck by lightning from the inside.

He cried out and his mother whirled around in time to catch him as he fell to the floor, while a hot, prickly feeling he recognised as his own magic stabbed every inch of his body beneath his skin.

“Merlin!!!! Merlin, what’s wrong?!?” his mother cried, her face blurring in and out of focus above him.

“Mother,” he’d had time to whisper, before his magic exploded with pain through his whole body.

He could feel a strange twisting in his flesh and a rage disconnected from his own feelings of panic rising through his body before his vision blacked out. Dimly, he registered a strange echoing chanting in the darkness, as though being spoken in a distant cave. He tried to call out to whoever was making the noise, but his voice failed him and he passed out.

***

When he awoke the next day, he was lying naked in the back field and Will was sitting over him, face white and hands shaking.

“W-.....Wi-.....”

“HUNITH!” Will shouted, as soon as he registered Merlin was awake and trying to say something. “Hunith he’s back!”

 _What’s going on?_ Merlin wanted to ask, but his voice was still too hoarse to work properly. He shut his eyes again and slowly became aware of a distant sensation of pain, becoming clearer with every moment, not magical as in the night before but very physical. He raised his head from the ground to look down at himself but no sooner as he had done so than Will had pushed him straight back onto the grass.

“Don’t,” he said, sounding stricken. “Don’t Merlin, don’t look.”

Panic reared in Merlin like a wave over a rock.

“Will,” Merlin croaked, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, a combination of fear and injury.

“You’re going to be alright mate,” Will whispered desperately, squeezing his hand. “You’re going to be alright.”

He wasn’t. Not then or ever again.

Will and his mother had laboriously carried him back to the house as gently as they could, trying to avoid aggravating his wounds as much as possible – for he’d been torn, scratched and mutilated half to death.

Once inside he was laid on his mother’s bed while she washed and stitched up his wounds with what needle and thread she had.

He drifted in and out of consciousness all day, while his fever grew and his mother worried, until night came and a now familiar hot flush coursed through his body and he sat bolt upright, ignoring his mother’s cry of protest.

Grabbing her hand from where she’d reflexively gone to the wound he’d opened on his back, he said panting, “Again. It’s the same, same feeling I had last night, whatever happened it’s happening again –“

A cry of pain escaped him and he fell back to the bed, writhing in agony as his magic once more stabbed through every area of his body. Distantly he registered Will asking wildly: “What do we do, what do we do?”

“Get some rope,” his mother answered. “If he turns into that thing again he’ll kill himself. We’ll have to tie him up so he can’t attack himself or anything else.”

Merlin just barely felt rope sliding around his wrists before they were twisting and cracking and he blacked out once more.

When he awoke the next day he knew by the light in the house that he’d missed the morning. It was afternoon, and Merlin didn’t have to be a physician to know that taking so long to recover consciousness wasn’t a good sign.

“Mother,” he whispered, and she was by his side in a second.

“Merlin,” she said, put a cloth in running it over his head. “Oh Merlin.”

“What’s happening to me?” he asked.

Tears spilled silently down her cheeks but she didn’t give voice to the sobs he could see trying to fight their out of her throat; instead she inhaled deeply and answered steadily: “We don’t know. I’m sorry my boy. That first night you just.....transformed. I don’t know how. You became.....a huge beast the likes of which I’ve never seen before. You just....attacked yourself. Scratching, biting, clawing yourself, and when I tried to stop you, you went to attack me too, but Will had heard the noise from next door and pulled me away in time. We fled. I’m so sorry.” Fresh tears poured out of the corner of her eyes and she had to stop to gather herself. “I’m sorry –“

“Sshhhh,” Merlin reassured her. “It’s ok. I understand.”

She drew another shuddering breath and continued.

“You escaped the house, we don’t know where. We could hear you though, the whole village could. Screaming and howling and mauling yourself. I lied and said you were still in the house while the men went to look for the beast. They couldn’t find you but Will found you in the field the next morning and we brought you in here.”

Merlin nodded. That much he remembered.

“But last night it happened again,” he said and his mother nodded.

“We tied you down so you couldn’t attack yourself, or us, again.”

Merlin registered for the first time that there was still rope around his wrists and ankles and he lifted his head to look down at himself. His mother quickly hurried to push him back onto the pillow, but it was too late - he had seen.

He was soaked in blood.

The second transformation had re-opened all the wounds sustained from the first one. Despite his mother’s best efforts to close them again, he knew in an instant from the blood loss, his dizziness, his lateness in waking and his mother’s tears that he wasn’t going to make it.

He tried to choke back a sob, but his mother wasn’t fooled.

“Don’t worry,” she said desperately, grabbing his hand and stroking it. “Those druids can’t have gone far, I’ve sent Will out to find them. They’ll come and heal you, and fix whatever it is that caused you to transform.”

“And if they don’t?” Merlin asked, but his mother didn’t answer.

She didn’t have to. They both knew the odds of Will finding the druids by himself in the enormous forest. Even if he did, there wouldn’t be enough time to return to Ealdor and heal him before he transformed again.

He was going to die.

“Mother,” he said desperately, needing her to understand how much he loved her before it was too late but she shushed him.

“Don’t do that,” she insisted. “Don’t say goodbye. I’m not giving up yet.”

Merlin had to smile because that was his mother all over, fighting to the very end. She gave a desperate laugh at the sight of it and came over and wrapped him in a hug, which Merlin was grateful to receive, as it meant he no longer had to pretend he wasn’t crying.

They stayed that way for hours, until the sun began to move low enough in the sky that Merlin started to panic.

His mother started to move toward the rope but before she could get up the back door burst open with a violent bang and Will rushed into the room and panted: “They’re here, I found them.”

Merlin’s eyes widened as three men in brown robes followed Will into the house, and his mother hurried to close the door behind them before anyone else in the village could see them.

 “Are you the afflicted boy?” the eldest man asked Merlin. Merlin opened to mouth to quip that no, that was Will, but a look from his mother silenced him and he closed it and nodded.

The druid walked over to him and ordered him to lie back. He spent several minutes looking at his wounds, and several more holding one hand over him with his eyes closed in concentration.

Merlin’s nerves were jangling. Only a few days ago he’d been excited to glimpse druids at a distance and now here were three in his house, about to perform magic on him. Then he remembered why and an icy ball of panic dropped into his chest like a rock. He wished they would hurry and cure him.

Eventually the grey-haired druid sighed and said, “You are cursed. This is no curse that I know of. I cannot help you. I am sorry.”

“ _What?!”_ his mother cried.

“I can heal the flesh,” he clarified, “but I cannot cure the curse that caused the damage.”

He looked and hard at Merlin for several moments, and Merlin felt a vague tickling inside his head, the brush of a whisper inside his ear.

_Emrys....._

But the feeling was quickly swallowed up by a hot, itchy sensation similar to the one that preceded his transformation, so Merlin ignored it.

Something in the druid’s face crumpled and he sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry,” he said sorrowfully. “More than you could know." 

But before Merlin could ask what he meant, the man placed his hands over his chest, closed his eyes and began chanting. Merlin closed his eyes as he felt the smooth wash of the man’s magic pass through his body. After a few moments, the man stood up.

Merlin was torn between a desire to keep his eyes closed and a desire to see if the druid’s magic had worked; eventually he compromised by looking down at himself with half lidded eyes.

The flesh was pink and shiny, but healed. The druid had done his job.

“He will need to be restrained every night,” he told Hunith.

“Thank you,” she said with a deep sigh of relief.

The druid merely nodded at her, and together with the other two, walked out of the house before Hunith could so much as offer a bowl of broth.

“Rude,” Will complained, but Hunith whipped him with a cloth on her way over to Merlin.

“They just healed your best friend,” she admonished, poking Merlin’s skin.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Fine,” he said. “Light headed though.”

“Well you’d best eat,” she said, getting up. “Before....”

The room fell silent.

“Of course,” Merlin said despondently, sitting up in the bed and keeping his eyes on his newly healed chest.

“Well,” Will said with forced cheeriness. “Just think of this way. Druid said you were cursed but he didn’t say for how long right? I mean he barely looked at you and he said he doesn’t even know what the curse is, bet it’s not something long lasting.”

Merlin nodded and accepted the bowl of food his mother handed him. However unlikely, he had to cling to hope that Will was right.

***

But Will was wrong.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months with no change. Every night at sundown, Merlin would experience the hot flush that signalled the beginning of The Change, and tie himself up into the ropes strung between two trees in the copse near their house that Will had set up, for as Will and his mother discovered, he could not be too close to other people when he transformed, as The Beast perceived anything that tried to stop it attacking itself as a threat and would attack them too.

Merlin felt as though his life was spiralling into a black whirl of hopelessness and he was powerless to stop it.

Already unpopular in Ealdor, Merlin now to isolate himself even further or risk certain execution once the villagers discovered the threat of The Beast lurking within him. Already, people were whispering about Merlin’s non-appearance when the other men were looking for The Beast on the first night of his transformation, and he knew from the dark looks he got walking to and from the fields that some of them had already connected the two together.

He still had Will as a friend, but the effects of The Curse were showing even on that. Merlin and Will had always planned to run away together to some distant land or city, one where Will could become a knight and Merlin’s magic would be accepted, even somewhere like Camelot, the closest city, if they could – anywhere other than Ealdor.

But Merlin had no prospects outside of Ealdor now that he had to tie himself up in secret every night. Will said that he would stay with him of course, because what were best friends for? But Merlin suspected he secretly resented it, and he resented Will for that in turn, and became more and more withdrawn from him.

 His mother commented that it was a shame they weren’t as close as they used to be, but Merlin thought nothing could ever match the despair of the biggest effect of The Curse of all.

For Merlin had lost all control over his magic.

Where before he struggled to reign in his magic and stop it levitating every bowl he couldn’t be bothered be walking over to the tub to collect, now he couldn’t summon it to lift even the tiniest mote of dust from the ground.

In fact he couldn’t summon it for anything. He tried and tried, but whenever he reached into that old part of himself that would leap to his command without even a spoken word in the past, now all he found was a wild tempest of rage far beyond his command and unwilling to obey. His magic existed these days only as something to prickle constantly beneath his skin, as an ever-present reminder of the only task it could or would carry out any longer, that of twisting his body into the form of a hideous, self-destructive Beast.

And that was most heartbreaking of all.

Merlin had never experienced a time in his life where his magic had not been there for him, like a friend waiting deep inside him, leaping like a puppy to its master when it was called. Now he despaired he would ever feel that way again.

He tried to focus on finding something positive for his mother’s sake, to stop himself falling into a black pit of despair, but it was like trying to stop water rushing over a cliff; he had no prospects, no friends, no magic and no hope that the flimsy rope he used to tie himself with would stop the Beast tearing him apart before he even reached his 21st birthday.

“Merlin,” his mother said to him nervously one day.

“What?” he snapped, chopping carrot at the table.

“Will was over before. He wanted to know where you were.”

“Right,” Merlin replied disinterestedly.

“It was the anniversary of his father’s death,” she said more firmly.

“Oh,” Merlin said. The usual prickling of his magic beneath his skin was escalating into an itching and stabbing feeling. He’d learned not to scratch it when it did that, because the scabs it created left scars.

“Merlin?”

“ _What?_ ”

His mother opened his mouth to begin what was clearly an admonishment, but then appeared to change her mind.  

“I’m worried about you,” she said finally.

Merlin snorted. What did she want him to say to that? Reassure her? Well she did have something to worry about, and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

“That’s not fair Merlin!” she shouted at his silence, angry again.

“No, you know what isn’t fair?” he turned around, the swirling of magic he could no longer control under his skin spurring him to anger. “Losing my magic. Turning into a Beast every night. Knowing I could kill you, and will definitely kill myself. Not knowing why or what I can do about it. Not even being able to fix it cause I can’t even summon the magic to make my eyes change colour anymore! It’s like –“

And here his voice broke, because it was his biggest fear, one he’d never admitted even to himself.

“It’s like it’s turned against me. My magic. It hates me. That’s why I do this. That’s why I change every night now. It’s trying to kill me.”

“Oh Merlin,” he mother said, and suddenly she was hugging him and he was breaking down onto her shoulder.

“I’m sorry my boy,” she said, pulling away and cradling his face. “I should have suggested this before but it was too much of a risk. I’m sorry.”

“What?” Merlin asked eagerly, wiping his eyes.

“There is a man,” she said, “In Camelot. He used to be a practitioner of the Old Religion, but he’s since given it up under Uther’s anti-magic laws. But he’s the Court Physician of Camelot, one of the most learned men I know of, and he’s never forgotten his old skills, though he hides it well. Maybe....maybe he might be able to help you.”

“This man, he’d....he’d know what was wrong with me? How to fix it?”

“He might. He _might_ Merlin, I don’t know for sure. But he’d know more than we do and he’d have access to more books to research the problem.”

“But.....I’d have to go to Camelot.”

“Yes,” his mother said, eyes shining with tears.

Once he would have jumped with excitement at the thought of going to Camelot, of finally leaving Ealdor for a big city just as he and Will had planned.

Now his only thought was how on earth he was going to disguise himself as a magic user when he changed into a Beast every night. Where would he tie himself up when he got there? Did this man have a house? Would he mind the risk of sharing it with Merlin?

But then he looked at his mother, who was looking at him steadily, a constant source of love and support, and knew that he had to go. What other option did he have? If he stayed in Ealdor, either The Beast would kill him or he’d do the job himself.

“I love you,” he whispered, leaning down for a hug.

“I’ll always love you too,” she said, tears streaming down her face now.

That night he tied himself in his place in the forest for the last time. His things packed, his goodbyes said, nothing more remained for him in Ealdor except to wait for tomorrow and pray that it would bring him hope.

***

There was little to be found in Camelot. As Merlin was unable to tie himself up without the aid of Will’s pre-established rope system, Will had to accompany him to just outside the city in order to secure him properly at night.

Once inside Camelot, the first thing he had seen when he arrived was the execution of a sorcerer.

Heart low, he found Gaius’ chambers and waited silently inside the door until the old man climbed down the ladder he was standing on, unwilling to pass on the note from his mother explaining his predicament and foist his burden onto someone else.

“Ah! You gave me a fright!” Gaius said clutching his chest, when he had finally made it off the last rung and spotted Merlin in the doorway. “And who are you then?”

“Um, I’m....”

“Speak up!”

“I’m.....Merlin.”

“Ah yes,” Gaius said gravely. He reached over to his workbench, put on his glasses at looked at Merlin over them. “Your mother told me you might need my help.”

Merlin swallowed, nervousness, guilt and sorrow all mixed up into a painful soup in his chest.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Gaius sat down at the table and indicated Merlin should do the same.

“Tell me,” he said softly, when Merlin had sat gingerly down.

Merlin spoke for hours, telling him about his magic, the sudden curse, the words of the druid who had said it could not be cured and how he could no longer access his magic.

Gaius listened patiently, frown deepening with every word Merlin uttered until, realising the story was finished, he took off his glasses and uttered a heavy sigh.

Merlin sat and waited.

“I am sorry Merlin, but I’ve never heard of anything like this before. I’m not even sure if this curse is one curse or two separate curses, one for the day and the other for the night. Never mind who cursed you or why.”

Merlin’s heart sank.

“ _But,”_ Gaius went on firmly, “I promise I will do everything in my power to help you discover what this curse is and how to break it.”

 “Thank you,” Merlin whispered, biting back tears.

“In the meantime,” Gaius went on, “you can stay up in my storage room. No one comes up here at night, my tower is far from the rest of the castle and we can lock you in there to separate you from me if you like.”

“Do you have anything I can tie myself to? I need to be tied up securely at night,” Merlin said.

“We’ll see about strapping you down to the bed,” Gaius suggested.

Merlin nodded and went to his room to unpack his things.

***

When Merlin awoke the next day it was to find the bed beneath him in splinters his limbs twisted up in rope and bits of wood.

“Merlin!” he heard Gaius call. “Breakfast!”

“No, wait - !”

But Gaius had already walked up the stairs and opened the door. Merlin stared guiltily up at him from the middle of the floor, surrounded by the debris of what used to be the bed.

“Well,” Gaius said, after a moment. “I guess we’re going to have to try and think of some other arrangement.”

“Sorry,” Merlin said, as Gaius helped untangle him from the rope and large chunks of wood it was still tied to.

“No matter,” Gaius sighed. “I guess we can be grateful you got so tangled up in the bed as it broke or it might be you in pieces.”

Merlin ate his breakfast in awkward silence.

“I can go out to the forest,” he tried eventually, “tie myself up there tonight. Probably be safer for everyone else.”

“I’ll try and think of something else first,” Gaius said gently. “In the meantime, while I’m consulting my books you can deliver these around town.” He plopped a basket full of medicines onto the table beside Merlin.

“Oh but....won’t I....”

“You don’t turn into a violent beast during the day do you?” Gaius asked.

“No.”

“Good. You can be my new assistant then, while I try and figure out how to cure you.”

It took Merlin most of the day to deliver the medicines to all of Gaius’ patients. It didn’t help that the already hot day was made even hotter by the particularly bad roaring of angry magic under Merlin’s skin.

Hot, exhausted and lost, Merlin stopped just outside the entrance to the lower town to rest and get his bearings before moving on.

 _Mmmm,_ he thought, leaning his against the cool stone and closing his eyes. _This is a great spot._

It really was. It was cool despite being in direct sun, and peaceful, like the noise and energy of the town was lessened, even though he could see there were just as many people here as elsewhere.

Something was different. There was something about this spot.

Then it hit him.

His magic!

It wasn’t prickling him or burning him, or buzzing in his ears or causing him any irritation at all. It was normal.

He reached down inside himself to feel it and there it was, just as it had been _before_ – in the centre of him, peaceful, ready to respond to his call.

It was _normal._

Merlin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was broken, the curse was broken! Just like that! Maybe it was centred in Ealdor? Maybe all he had to do was stay in Camelot!

But what about last night? He’d transformed then. Maybe it was two curses, one for the day and one for the night as Gaius had suggested? Maybe –

_Bump._

Something had run into the edge of his boot. He looked down. It was a large, round wooden target and a small rather weedy man was apologetically stooping to pick it up.

“Sorry,” he was saying. “Sorry.”

“That’s fine,” Merlin said quickly, distracted.

“Well come on!” a blonde man in a red shirt shouted out from across the green. “We haven’t got all day! Or are you going to be as slow retrieving my target as you are pouring my bath?”

The weedy man sighed as he picked up the target and hoisted it onto his shoulder. Merlin watched in astonishment as he then proceeded to run as the blonde man threw knives at the target while all his friends jeered and taunted the weedy man.

Soon however, he stopped and dropped the target, plainly exhausted.

“Come _on,_ ” the blonde man said, “you’ve barely lasted ten minutes!”

“He’s tired,” Merlin interjected in a clear, carrying voice, unable to resist stepping in. “You’ve had your fun my friend, leave him alone.”

The group turned as one to Merlin.

“Do I know you?” the blonde man asked.

“Er, I’m Merlin.”

“So I don’t know you,” the blonde man said.

“No.”

“And yet you called me friend.”

 “Yeah that was my mistake,” Merlin said, growing annoyed. “I could never have a friend who could be such an ass.”

“Or I one that could be so stupid. Tell me Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?”

“No.”

“Would you like me to show you?”

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“Why not?” the blonde man laughed. “What are you gonna do to me?”

Merlin reached down into himself to check whether his magic was still accessible, and could feel it practically purring.

“You have no idea,” he said smugly, forgetting he couldn’t use it in Camelot anyway.

“Come on then!” the blonde man said, stepping back and throwing his arms wide.

Merlin was looked around at the crowd that had gathered. He couldn’t back down now. He took a swing at the blonde man, who easily dodged it and twisted Merlin’s arm up around his back.

“Could have you thrown in jail for that,” he said casually.

“Who do you think you are, the king?” Merlin said, frustrated.

“No, I’m his son. Arthur.”

_Oh shit._

***

Arthur was as good as his word. Twenty minutes later Merlin found himself unceremoniously dumped on the floor of a dungeon.

To make matters worse, his magic had slipped from his control again from almost the moment the guards had dragged him away; he could feel it itching and burning the same way it had done the past year.

The door rattled and Gaius walked in.

“Gaius!” Merlin cried, running over to him. “What are we going to do about me being here, what if I’m here overnight I’ll –“

“ _Sssssshhhhhh!”_ Gaius hissed looking around at the guards, and Merlin quickly shut his mouth.

“I’ve thought of that,” Gaius said very softly, so that Merlin had to lean in to hear what he was saying. “That’s why I’m here.”

He nodded over at the corner and Merlin, catching on, went over and sat in it.

“Merlin, look at these wounds!” he said in a carrying voice, bending over him so that his robes shielded his body. “I’ll have to stay and treat these and you know how much work I have to do! I suppose this will teach you for picking a fight with the Prince!”

Then he stopped and abruptly lowered his voice. “I thought of these while I was trying to think about to do with you after you broke the bed this morning. _Here,”_ and he reached into his robes and pulled out a set of large heavy gold manacles, ringed around the top and bottom edges with runes he couldn’t decipher.

“What are these?” Merlin whispered back.

“Back in the days of the Great Purge, there were some witches and wizards that were so powerful they had to be restrained with these in order to hold them,” Gaius said. “They bind a sorcerer’s magic so that it cannot be used while they are worn.”

“But how will that help me?” Merlin asked.

“They’re designed to cut sorcerers off from magic. Perhaps that extends to all magic, not just their own. They might cut you off from the curse.”

Gaius looked at him, while Merlin swallowed.

“But they’ll cut me off from my magic too.”

Gaius looked at him in confusion, and Merlin knew what he was thinking. He knew he was being ridiculous. He’d been unable to do anything remotely magical for over a year anyway, beyond changing into a self-destructive beast every night. Nevertheless, the manacles were distasteful to him.

He thought of that blissful moment this afternoon, when for ten minutes his magic had settled and obeyed him, and everything had felt right with the world again.

 “Merlin?” Gaius asked.

It didn’t matter. The curse had re-asserted itself only moments later. He couldn’t hang on to the foolish hope it would happen again, not until Gaius knew more about it.

“Yeah,” Merlin said bitterly. “Yeah, good idea.”

He held his arms out while Gaius closed the manacles over his wrist and locked them.

A strange, numb sensation passed over his body the moment they were closed. He didn’t feel the burning, angry prickling of his magic stabbing the inside of his skin anymore but nor did he feel much of anything else.

“Merlin?” Gaius asked. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve fixed a mangled leg by removing it,” Merlin answered honestly.

Gaius looked at him sternly. “I know it’s uncomfortable but it’s for the best Merlin.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said, “you’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you for getting these for me.”

“You’re welcome. Best hide your wrists under your jacket so the guards don’t see.”

Merlin obeyed, and settled in for a long afternoon of tense waiting until nightfall to see if they would work.

***

Merlin spent the rest of the afternoon alternately poking at his body to reassure himself that he wasn’t physically as well as magically numb and vividly imagining scenarios in which the manacles didn’t work and Arthur Pendragon stumbled upon his cell while he was transformed and was promptly and violently ripped apart.

Slowly, the shadows began to lengthen and the light began to fade; darkness was falling.

Merlin waited as tense as a bowstring for night to fall completely. His breath sped up as he watched first as the patch of afternoon sunlight rose higher and higher in his cell and then disappeared completely, and then as the passage outside his cell grew darker and darker.

His muscles were sore and aching from sitting tight in one position for so long, when finally, the guards lit torches all along the passage.

He had done it. It was night. He hadn’t transformed.

He exhaled deeply and unwound his legs, preparing for the first time in over a year to spend the night in human form, when he heard it.

_Merlin...._

He looked around.

_Merlin...._

“Hello?” he asked, but there was no reply.

Shrugging he rolled over and went to sleep.

***

In the morning he was awoken by Gaius.

“How did you sleep?” he asked significantly.

Merlin’s face broke into a grin. "It worked.”

“Good,” Gaius said, pulling the key out from inside his robes and unlocking the manacles. “Then this is what we will do from now on, at least until we figure out how to break the curse.”

Merlin stood up and scratched his arms, uncomfortable at the sudden return of the hot itching of his magic.

Gaius swatted him on the arm. “Don’t scratch."

“Sorry,” Merlin said.

 “And I managed to pull a few strings to get you released –“ Gaius hurried on, stopping Merlin from interrupting in excitement, “but there is  a small price to pay. ”

_Splat!_

Merlin sighed. Their aim was getting better.

_Splat!_

Merlin squirmed uncomfortably. The juices of the rotten fruit were sticky and they were aggravating the ever-present discomfort of his angry magic, already feeling worse this morning by comparison to the numb sensation of the night before.

Merlin sighed. He wished, more than ever, that he knew what that temporary access to his magic yesterday had been all about. He would give anything to feel normal like that again, instead of either burning all over or completely frozen inside.

“I’m Guinevere,” a voice came from his right, pulling his out of his thoughts, “but most people call me Gwen?”

“Oh,” Merlin said. “I’m Merlin. But most people call me....”

_Dangerous._

“....idiot,” he settled on.

They chatted for a while until the children returned with more rotting food.

He was released in time for lunch with Gaius, during which he told him about the temporary use of his magic. Gaius was intrigued and promised to look into it, though he admitted it made figuring out Merlin’s curse (or curses) yet more difficult.

It was on his way from delivering a medicine to Lady Helen (a somewhat stand-off-ish woman who was performing at the ceremony Uther was holding the following day) that he felt it.

He stood stock still, eyes closed, reaching down into himself over and over to confirm it – his magic was normal again.

“Well don’t just stand there,” an annoyed voice came from behind him. “Move!”

He turned around. It was Arthur Pendragon again.

Arthur’s eyes widened in delight when he saw who it was. “You! How’s your knee walking coming along?”

Merlin knew better than to bite back this time. He walked away, ignoring Arthur’s jeers, until suddenly, like being dumped in a pool of fire, his magic spun out of his control and began buzzing furiously again.

He stopped.

“Oh thank god!” he heard Arthur say. “I thought you were deaf as well as dumb.”

Merlin turned around. Arthur and his cronies were walking up to him, and suddenly, like the blowing out of a candle, his magic stopped. Normal.

_No….._

Arthur had returned to taunting him, but Merlin wasn’t listening. His magic was singing and his mind was racing with possibilities and Merlin didn’t know which to indulge first.

He must have looked an idiot standing there, mouth agape and not saying anything however, because Arthur eventually grew annoyed and asked crossly, “are you _mentally afflicted?”_

And before Merlin could stop it, his magic was rearing up in reaction to the insult, just like it used to when he was a child and he was unable to stop himself levitating something he wanted to himself.  He tried to halt it but to his horror, his eighteen months effectively magic-less had left him rusty and before he could do anything –

_SMASH!_

A pot broke on the side of Arthur’s head.

Total silence descended on the marketplace.

“Who threw that?!?” Arthur demanded, looking around. “Was it you???” he shouted at Merlin, who was trying his best to suppress a grin.

“No sire, I wouldn’t dare,” Merlin said as innocently as he could.

“It _was_ you! I’ll have your head for that!”

“No, wait, really, I –“

“Come on!” Arthur said furiously, plucking a mace out of nowhere and throwing it at Merlin who caught it awkwardly. “You want a fight, let’s fight!”

“But –“

But before he could finish the sentence Arthur was charging at him and it was all he could do to duck out of the way of his mace.

He twisted and turned, ducking out of the way and running through the marketplace until, he remembered he wasn’t useless anymore – he had a weapon of his own up his sleeve.

Turning around he faced Arthur squarely on with a huge grin of satisfaction on his face – Arthur was thrown by Merlin’s seemingly inappropriate reaction to nearly being brained by a mace, and his swing went wide and – _yes._ Merlin’s magic stretched out, humming pleasurably as it tied two horseshoes up together just in time, tangling them in Arthur’s mace.

Thrilled, Merlin looked around for more opportunities to use his magic.

It was exhilarating. His magic felt like liquid, not fire in his veins and it obeyed his every command, tripping Arthur up, pulling out boxes, misdirecting swings and punches – Merlin’s heart was pumping in excitement.

“Do you want to give up?” he asked Arthur, getting carried away with himself as he backed him into a corner swinging his mace.

“To you?” Arthur asked incredulously.

“Do you, do you want to give up?”

His magic reached out and tripped him at the last moment and Arthur fell flat on the floor.

There was nothing to suggest Arthur was anything special, in that moment. He wasn’t regal or awe-inspiring or even good-looking, face screwed up into an unattractive pout as he tried to work out how Merlin of all people had managed to get him on his back in a corner with a mace over his head.

But looking down at him, about to press his advantage, Merlin felt a sudden, powerful rush of surety.

 _It’s you,_ he thought, _you break my curse._

Somehow it was all about Arthur.

And before he could go any further with that thought, Arthur had reached around, grabbed him by his ankle and tripped him flat onto his back, using Merlin’s momentum to hoist himself up in the process.

Arthur used a broom to sweep him into the arms of some waiting guards, but stopped them as they made ready to drag Merlin off to the dungeons.

“Let him go,” he instructed them, “he may be an idiot but he’s a brave one. There’s something about you Merlin.” 

_Yes,_ Merlin thought, _there’s something about you too._

But he didn’t say anything. He stood there as Arthur walked away, and let his gaze follow him hungrily, until the magic rose up in him again, a raging re-lit fire.

***

Merlin continued to stand there long after the rest of the people in the marketplace had dispersed. It wasn’t until then that he looked across the square and saw The Eyebrow.

_Oh no._

“How could you be so foolish??” Gaius demanded.

“I wasn’t!” Merlin snapped, on edge after returning to a state of angry buzzing and violent itching for the second time in a single day.

“I couldn’t control it Gaius, he was being an idiot and then my magic just _reacted,_ like it used to when I was little and I couldn’t control it – Gaius it’s him. It’s Arthur. He stopped my curse yesterday.”

“Merlin what are you talking about?”

“It’s him! I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but whenever I’m around him, my magic goes back to normal. I can use it again, it obeys me and it doesn’t hurt anymore. Yesterday, when it happened, I was arguing with him and today it happened again and I turned around and he was there! What do you think it means?”

“I think it means you’re reading too much into a coincidence,” Gaius said.

“ _What??_ Gaius, two days in a row I run into the same man and both times I can use my magic again. That’s not a coincidence.”

“Think about it Merlin,” Gaius said. “Why would Arthur have anything to do with your curse? You were cursed long before you met him, before you were even in the same kingdom.”

Merlin gaped open mouthed at Gaius. “Gaius my curse is about Arthur how can you not see this?”

“I will figure out your curse in time,” Gaius said sternly, wagging a finger at him. “Now go and deliver this to Sir Owaine before you get yourself into any more trouble. And stay away from Arthur. You don’t need to end up in another fight.”

Merlin snatched the bottle out of Gaius’ hand and stalked off, slamming the door on the way out.

He was trudging moodily through the corridors on the way from Owaine’s chambers when he heard it again.

_Merlin…._

Merlin stopped.

_Merlin….._

Well, he wasn’t in any kind of mood to get back to Gaius’. He looked outside the window and saw that he had at least a few hours of sunlight left.

_Merlin…._

He headed back the way he came down the corridor, moving through the castle until he was walking across the courtyard, tracking the source of the voice.

He continued until he found himself in the dungeons, walking deeper and deeper until suddenly he came to a ledge beyond which was a vast, empty cavern; he could go no further.

“Hello?” he called uncertainly and with a whoosh, a huge, great dragon appeared. Merlin reared back instinctively until he realised it was only settling himself on a rocky outcrop.

“I’m here,” it said.

Merlin didn’t say anything, but the dragon continued speaking anyway.

“Your destiny is tarnished,” he said, “I can no longer see it as clearly as I once could. You are not the great power you should be.”

“What do you mean?” Merlin asked, “Are you talking about my curse?”

“No young warlock,” the dragon said, “I am talking about your destiny.”

“What do you mean?” Merlin asked again.

“Arthur is the Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion. But he cannot do it alone. Without you he will never succeed. Without you there will be no Albion.”

Merlin’s mind was racing. Arthur again!

“So you’re saying,” Merlin said slowly, “that it’s my destiny to help Arthur, but my destiny’s become clouded?”

“Your destiny is under threat,” the dragon said. “From what I cannot say.”

“I’ve been cursed,” Merlin said. “I can’t use my magic at all, and I turn into a beast at night. But around Arthur,” Merlin said significantly, “my magic works.”

The dragon rumbled.

“Then perhaps there is some small hope for your destiny after all,” it said approvingly. “It fights through your curse.”

“So you’re saying,” Merlin said, “that I can use my magic around Arthur because it’s my destiny to help him?”

“This curse is no accident Merlin,” the dragon said sternly, “This is magic at its most powerful. But you are but one side of a coin. Remember that, and you can right your destiny.”

“So how do I break the curse? Will I always need to be near him to do magic? Is this one curse or two? Who cursed me, and why, and how does it work – wait!!!”

But the dragon was already flying away.

“Yeah thanks for that, that was really helpful!” Merlin called up to the empty cavern, but there was no response so Merlin turned away, and walked back up the stairs.

***

Merlin made it back to Gaius’ chambers as dusk was settling.

Gaius turned around with a raised eyebrow as he opened the door, and looked significantly at the window.

“Yeah, sorry, I better….with the manacles….”

Gaius nodded and fetched a small plain brown box from the top shelf without saying anything.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Merlin said sincerely. “I was just….it’s hard coming back to –“ he gestured at himself to indicate the unknown curse or curses “- after it going away”

Gaius softened.

“I understand,” he said, “now come over here so we can get these fitted. You’ll have to sleep out here in the patient’s cot till we get a new bed I’m afraid. Just be sure not have your arms out of the blankets in case someone comes in.”

Gaius clicked the manacles over him and Merlin shivered as the cold, numb feeling settled over him again.

“It’ll get better as you get used to it,” Gaius promised. “Now come on, we better get an early night, the celebrations start at noon tomorrow and everyone will want everything done before then so we’ll have to wake up early.”

Merlin was kept busy running chores all the next morning for Gaius until it was time to attend the noonday feast.

He stared blatantly as the Lady Morgana walked in, bowled over by her beauty until Gaius elbowed him sternly in the side.

He chatted with Gwen about Morgana and Arthur and the kinds of men she liked (Merlin thought it was obvious - rough, tough and save-the-world, whatever her vehement protests that she preferred the opposite) while he poured wine with the servants and surreptitiously tried to look for a way to move closer to Arthur – for although they were in the same room, the hall was cavernous enough that Arthur hadn’t yet moved close enough to him for his magic to stop burning.

He inched his way along the hall, taking care to rush in and serve people closer and closer to Arthur until…..

_Aaaaaahhhhhh_

It was like a soothing rush, spreading all through his body, the moment he got within a ten metre radius of Arthur.

Merlin closed his eyes and revelled in the feeling until a warning jab in the elbow from one of the other servants startled him out of his reverie – right, he probably looked drunk just standing there.

He quickly grabbed a jug again, but at that moment the room hushed and Uther stood up to announce the performance of Lady Helen, who opened her mouth and began to sing.

At first, there was nothing unusual about her performance. Soon however, the whole hall began to fall asleep; magical cobwebs sprung from out of nowhere as one by one the room’s inhabitants began to slumber. Magic!

Merlin clapped his hands over his ears and looked around for a way to stop her. His eyes alighted on the chandelier and checking that he was close enough to Arthur for his magic to work, he threw as much of it as it was within his rusty talents to muster at the chain.

_Snap!_

It broke and crushed her. Merlin watched as immediately, the hall began to wake.

But it was not over yet. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed as the old woman who had apparently disguised herself as Lady Helen roused herself and with her last strength threw a knife at Arthur.

_No!_

Before he even knew what he was doing, he was slowing time. He raced to pull Arthur out of the way and landed, just in time, heavily on his hip with Arthur crushing him as the knife slammed into the chair.

“You saved my boy’s life,” Uther said shakily, as they got to their feet. Arthur just looked at him incredulously.

“Oh…it was nothing…”

“You shall be rewarded,” Uther said.

“Oh, no, really, I couldn’t….”

“No I insist,” Uther continued over the top of his weak protests. “You shall be Prince Arthur’s manservant.”

Merlin looked in shock at Gaius as the whole hall burst into applause.

Manservant!

Gaius hurried over, white faced.

“My Lord,” he said. “Please, we must discuss something outside.”

“Nonsense Gaius, this is my feast,” Uther replied.

Gaius looked around at all the guards hurrying to clear the body out of the hall and the guests watching with close attention whilst quickly pretending to be horrified or uninterested when they thought people had noticed.

“My Lord, I’m sure Merlin is delighted to be so honoured, but he cannot accept your reward,” he said moving closer to Uther so that the others, engrossed in the other proceedings of the hall, would not hear.

“And why is that?” Uther asked, irritation beginning to form on his face.

“Well, because………..I am training him up to be a physician. For……when I retire.”

“Gaius you never mentioned a desire to retire before,” Uther said in surprise.

“Well……I am getting on in years sire and I decided I needed an apprentice. It takes many years to learn the physician’s craft well, and I will need someone competent for five or so years’ time. Merlin will not have time to be Arthur’s manservant as well.”

“Nonsense,” Uther said dismissively. “I’m sure the boy could manage both jobs, and he would be paid better anyway. Besides, Arthur needs someone as vigilant as him around. What say you?” he asked Merlin.

Arthur, Gaius and Uther turned to him as one.

Merlin knew the duties of a manservant probably meant serving Arthur at night. He knew it would be safer, for himself and for others, if he stayed away from Arthur, focused on researching his curse with Gaius, did as little as possible to draw attention to himself.

But Arthur had unlocked that piece of Merlin that had been shut away from him for over a year that he had despaired of ever seeing again.

He allowed him his magic. And there wasn’t anything Merlin wouldn’t do to protect that.

“I’m sure sire,” Merlin said softly to Uther, “that I can manage both jobs as you say.”

Gaius and Arthur were wearing identical expressions of disbelief and disappointment. Merlin tried not to look at them as Uther clapped him on the back and said “Good! It is settled then. You begin your duties first thing tomorrow!”

***

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said to Gaius, the moment they had got back to their chambers. Gaius looked at him sternly; for someone who had only known Merlin for a few days, it was amazing how quickly he had mastered the art of guilt-tripping him.

“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why you felt the need to place your head on a chopping block,” Gaius said. “You do realise that Arthur will expect you to serve him at night?”

“I’ll make something up,” Merlin said. “I’ll say that I have to take lessons from you at night or something.”

“That won’t work and you know it.”

“Maybe it won’t have to work for long! Maybe Arthur is the key to breaking my curse. Maybe I have to help him in order to break it.”

“Not this again Merlin! Don’t tell me you’re risking your life on this belief that Arthur is somehow related to your curse!”

“He _is_ Gaius! But it’s more than that!”

Merlin stopped. “He’s my destiny Gaius. I can feel it.”

Gaius opened his mouth to say something, but the sincere look on Merlin’s face stopped him. Whether he believed he was telling the truth, or at least that he thought he was, Merlin didn’t know, but Gaius didn’t argue further.

“Go on then,” he said finally. “It’s getting close to dusk, we’d better put the manacles on, you want an early night’s sleep for your first day as Arthur’s servant tomorrow.”

Merlin’s face broke into a smile.

“Thanks Gaius.”

“You’d better be right about this,” Gaius said in return.

***

Merlin was deeply regretting his decision the following day, when Gaius was massaging the aches and pains left by the beating he’d taken from Arthur that morning.

“He is _such_ an arrogant prat!” he was complaining. “Gods and you should see my list of duties!”

“You’re the one who wanted to be his servant,” Gaius unhelpfully reminded him. “Have you thought about how you’re going to get out of serving him dinner?”

“My good looks and charm?”

Gaius raised a rather severe eyebrow at him.

“I don’t know, I’ll tell him that you’re planning to retire really soon or something, you have to rush me through everything I’ll need to know, I won’t have time to serve him dinner.”

Gaius sighed.

“I thought I told you that’s not going to be good enough.”

“Well what do you suggest?”

In response Gaius clunked the manacles down onto the table.

Merlin groaned. “It’s not that time already?”

“Just be grateful Arthur hasn’t asked you to serve him on your first night. For an arrogant prat he seems rather understanding of the pain you’re in.”

“That’s because he beat me until I couldn’t stand up!”

This wasn’t entirely true. Excited by the regained use of his magic the instant he had come into contact with Arthur that morning, Merlin had allowed the liberal use of it to keep himself standing under the onslaught of blows Arthur called “training”.

Arthur had seemed grudgingly impressed by Merlin’s ability to withstand every hit, even admitting a slightly wondrous “I don’t know how you’re doing it,” Merlin wasn’t sure he was meant to hear.

Suddenly worried that Arthur might be suspicious of this scrawny country boy who refused to go down to a seasoned knight, Merlin had flashed Arthur his most disarming smile (that was alternately charming or deranged depending on his luck that day) and Arthur had looked him up and down, shaken his head, picked up his sword and told him training was over for today.

Gaius rattled the manacles in front of Merlin and Merlin moaned. “But I don’t need them yet look there’s still a few rays of sunlight!”

“Merlin!”

Merlin sighed.

“I hate these things,” he complained, holding his wrists out.

***

Merlin sought out Gwen, his only friend within the castle so far, to teach him about armour the next morning in preparation for a tournament that would start that afternoon.

He ran through it with her once, and then asked to do so again, then if he could practise on her.

She reacted in surprise.

“Sorry, it’s just, I really want to make sure I get this right with Arthur,” he said quickly, and she nodded as though understanding of a desire to make sure one did one’s work well.

Merlin had a brief moment in which he wished he really was that hard-working – truthfully, he wanted to make sure he was the best possible servant Arthur could ever require during the day, so that he wouldn’t grow too frustrated with his inability to serve him at night.

“So, can I...?” he asked, approaching her with the armour.

“Oh! Oh but then you’d have to touch me! Not – not that I don’t want to be touched by you, I mean,” she closed her eyes in mortification, “no, that’s not what I meant! Just – just - I think you should, you know, practise on yourself, a little more.”

She trembled with embarrassment. Merlin decided to take sympathy on all the accidental faux pas’ she’d made – she couldn’t help being a little too talkative, and he was sure she didn’t mean it to sound the way it did – so he acquiesced without fuss and Gwen, relieved, continued to take him through the armour over and over until it was time for him to leave.

***

Merlin had been waiting for Arthur by his tent at the tournament field for half an hour before he arrived, eager once more to be near him and feel temporarily reprieved of the angry burning that had plagued him all morning.

“You’re already here?” Arthur asked in confusion as he approached.

Merlin’s eyes half closed with relief as Arthur finally crossed the required threshold that made Merlin’s curse give way to his destiny.

“Everything is already prepared sire,” Merlin said, picking up his armour and quickly schooling his face into what he hoped was a professional expression, before Arthur could mistake his look of relief for something else.

Then Merlin realised what a half-relieved, half-ecstatic expression could be mistaken for and blushed deeply.

“Well?” Arthur snapped and Merlin apologised, hurriedly moving over to apply his armour.

Applying Arthur’s armour was a nightmare. Embarrassed by his accidental thought that he probably looked aroused whenever Arthur first approached him, Merlin was hyper-aware of every time his fingers brushed Arthur’s skin as he was putting the armour of him.

He rushed through the task, determined that Arthur should not see his blush and cursed himself when he was finished – the armour was slightly wonky on the left side.

Arthur however looked down and asked incredulously: “This was your first time at this??”

“Er – yeah,” Merlin replied, confused but pleased.

Arthur quickly schooled his expression into one of disdain.

“Well, you were fast at least, though you need to take more care – it’s slightly wonky on the left side.”

Merlin’s pleasure evaporated immediately.

“Sire,” he said snippily, moving to get Arthur’s cloak. "So, you nervous?” he asked as he fiddled with the fastening.

“I don’t get nervous,” Arthur replied stiffly, making it immediately obvious he was.

“Ten deep breaths before you start, I find that always helps,” Merlin offered, remembering the technique his mother had taught him when he had first been cursed and his nerves approaching the transformation had been almost as bad as the transformation itself.

“I said I don’t get nervous!” Arthur roared.

“Right,” Merlin replied, quickly yanking Arthur’s slightly wonky armour on the left side back to the right. “And your armour’s not wonky either sire.”

Arthur looked incredulously at Merlin who smiled nervously back, wondering if his cheek had cost him his “good servant” reputation already, but Arthur simply shook his head and moved to stand in line with the other knights.  

Merlin watched him go, half wishing he never had to leave his side again and expose Merlin to the effects of the curse, when, just before he joined the other knights, he looked back.

Time seemed to slow for Merlin as the sunlight reflected from another knight’s armour caught in Arthur’s hair; slowly he looked Merlin up and down with – what was that? Puzzlement? Curiosity?

A prickling feeling buzzed in Merlin’s stomach as he watched Arthur watch him, pinned by his gaze, but then Arthur took another step away from him onto the tournament field and the prickling feeling exploded into pain, and Merlin closed his eyes in discomfort as his magic turned against him once more.

***

Merlin watched the tournament (he couldn’t say whether or not Arthur was any good, as he had absolutely no idea of what was happening beyond men hitting each other with swords) and removed Arthur’s armour as efficiently as he could, anxious there should be no repeat of the embarrassment in putting it on.

“Might I offer my congratulations in your performance in the tournament?” It was Knight Valiant.

“Likewise,” Arthur forced out.

The knight smirked and strode off.

“Creep,” Merlin said, unable to hold back, and immediately kicked himself; good servants weren’t supposed to speak rudely about knights he was sure.

Arthur however gave a small laugh and Merlin smiled hopefully back before Arthur was turning away and prattling off a list of chores for him to complete that night.

“Arthur,” Merlin said nervously, hurrying after him before he could walk away completely. “Um, there’s something I have to tell you, about serving you tonight....”

“Don’t worry about it Merlin,” Arthur said, without breaking his stride. “The knights are eating with my father tonight.”

Merlin could have collapsed in relief.

***

The relief was short lived however, as Merlin realised he had several hours worth of polishing and cleaning to somehow complete with manacles on that night.

Rubbing the hauberk awkwardly rested on his lap with his hands closely bound together and chaffing in the heavy gold wrist binders, Merlin hated Arthur fiercely and never mind how he had looked that afternoon with the sunlight in his hair.

His bad mood was not improved by being accosted by creepy Knight Valiant for inspecting his shield when he thought he saw it move the following morning, nor by Arthur’s wondrous: “you did all this by yourself?”  when he dropped all the polished armour onto the table in front of him, utterly exhausted.

“Yes sire,” Merlin sighed, arms and chafed wrists aching at the memory of it.

“Well hurry up Merlin, I’d hate to see you fall asleep before you get it on me,” Arthur said with a ghost of smile.

“Can’t have me going to sleep now can we sire,” Merlin said without thinking. “Quick, better think of some more chores in case I get some rest tonight.”

Arthur’s eyes glittered. “Well we certainly can’t have you doing the work you’re paid to do now can we? You just lie down Merlin, better laze about instead. Here, have my bed.”

Merlin, to his horror, blushed at the mention of the bed.

“I don’t need to sire, I’m more than capable of doing my job,” Merlin replied quickly.

“I don’t know Merlin, I think I need you to prove to me you’re up to the challenge,” Arthur retorted, a smirk on his face and a light in his eyes that spoke of hours of hard labour.

“I think I’ve already done that,” Merlin said, trying to keep his own smirk down.

“Oh? Tell me Merlin, what challenge have you mastered in three days of employment?”

“Putting up with you,” Merlin quipped, openly grinning now.

Arthur’s face twisted through surprise, delight and anger so quickly Merlin wasn’t sure what response exactly he had incurred. Arthur opened his mouth but whether his response was going to be playful or enraged Merlin would never know because the clanking through the corridors of another knight reminded Arthur that he needed to be on the tournament field. He took off through the castle, Merlin hurrying along behind him as fast as he could so as not to lose the access to his magic that only Arthur gave him.

They all but ran to the grounds. Merlin offered Arthur a rushed “good luck” as he took his place by the entrance to the grounds to watch the match, and Arthur surprised him by returning a soft “thank you” before putting on his helmet and stepping onto the field.

Merlin watched Arthur’s match, strangely exhilarated.

He thought (although he couldn’t be sure) that Arthur far outclassed his opponent; there was a gracefulness, a fluidity to the way he moved that the larger man he was facing lacked.

Merlin lost himself in the sinuousness of Arthur’s limbs until the next fight, in which Knight Valiant wounded Sir Ewan.

As he genuinely needed to help Gaius with Ewan that afternoon, Merlin made his excuses to Arthur (carefully making it seem as though Gaius would need to help tend Sir Ewan all through the night as well) and attended Gaius as he puzzled over Ewan’s injury – closer to snake bite than any battle wound.

Remembering the movement on Valiant’s snake shield that morning, Merlin stood up to leave.

“Merlin where are you going?” Gaius asked.

“He was fighting Knight Valiant,” Merlin replied urgently. “There’s something I must go and see.”

“Merlin you can’t leave its dusk already!” Gaius cried, looking at the darkening window.

“I’ll be quick!!” Merlin called, running already; he raced through the castle, skidding to a silent halt outside Valiant’s chambers and peered in.

 Three live snakes were writhing on the shield, awaiting a wriggling mouse dangling from Valiant’s fingertips.

“Dinnertime,” Valiant said.

Merlin watched entranced and revolted until a sudden hot flush alerted him to the growing darkness. Unable to stop himself, he cried out.

“Who’s there?” Valiant cried, standing up and unsheathing his sword.

Terrified, Merlin bolted, his only option to be out of the corridor before Valiant reached the door.

He ran and ran through the castle, not taking the time to look back to see if Valiant was pursuing him; he experienced another hot flush and then another, and he knew he was racing against his transformation now.

Panicking, he bowled over the guards the stood watch near the entrance to the wing of the castle that held Gaius’ tower; not stopping to so much as apologise, he rushed up the stairs to as fast as he could, and burst through the door pouring with sweat and doubled over in pain.

“Merlin!” Gaius cried.

“Help....” Merlin managed to get out before he was falling, the black rage of the Beast inside him building in his chest, preparing to transform his body.

Dimly, Merlin felt the cool hardness of the manacles place over his wrists before he blacked out.

***

He woke several hours later in Gaius’ bed, to Gaius himself wiping a cool wet cloth over his forehead.

“What happened?” he whispered, his throat dry.

“You nearly transformed,” Gaius responded. “I only just put the manacles on you in time.”

“Oh,” Merlin said, sick with shame. If he had transformed, he could have killed Gaius or himself. “Gaius I’m so sorry.”

Gaius gave him the most severe eyebrow Merlin had seen yet in response.

“Are you going to tell me what caused you to become so recklessly foolish as to forget your curfew?”

“Knight Valiant,” he said. “It was him. He’s using a magic shield to cheat in the tournament. The snakes, they come alive. I saw him feed them a mouse. I’m not sure....I’m not sure if he saw me.”

Gaius looked scared.

“Merlin, if he saw you....”

“I know. We have to warn Arthur.”

But to Merlin’s disbelief, Gaius disagreed, pointing out their lack of evidence and Merlin’s low standing as a servant compared to Valiant’s position as knight.

Merlin wanted to be angry at Gaius, but he could not forget how he had endangered the man’s life only hours before, so he quietly agreed without fuss and gave up Gaius’ bed to sleep on the floor (Ewan was resting in Merlin’s own bed, as they had still not found one to replace the one Merlin had broken in the adjoining room).

The next day he rose as early as he could and made his way down to Valiant’s chambers to wait for the man to leave.

He stood behind a pillar for over an hour, uncomfortable and dizzyingly itchy with magic that seemed angrier than usual for having been denied the night before until finally Valiant exited the chamber and strode off.

Wasting no time, Merlin hurriedly entered the chamber - to find all three snakes out of the shield and waiting for him, hissing and spitting.

One of them charged at his leg, mouth open wide. Merlin jumped out of the way as quickly as he could and spun round, keeping it and the other two snakes in his eyeline, as they watched him waiting for another chance to attack.

Panicking, Merlin looked around the room until his eyes landed on a pile of Valiant’s armour and a sword amongst the lot. He raced to the left as another of the snakes charged him, missing as he dodged and landing face first into the wall.

Running to the sword, he grabbed it and swung it round just in time to lop off the head of a second snake; only to stop short as another sword came up to his throat.

“Back again boy?” Valiant asked.

Merlin turned around slowly, mindful of the third snake behind him.

Valiant stood smirking between him and the slightly ajar door. Swallowing heavily, Merlin moved his head the slightest inch to the left, into the direction of the sword, not away from it.

Valiant, surprised at the move, readjusted his grip on the sword, giving Merlin the split second he needed to look through the door without Valiant seeing and – _yes._

Completely useless with a sword and weighed down with unresponsive magic that sat like angry molten lead in his veins, Merlin utilised the one weapon he had left available to him – he hollered as loud as he could.

Valiant’s face contorted with rage but before he could do anything, two serving girls that had been ambling down the corridor burst through the door. Valiant quickly stowed his sword away and the two remaining snakes vanished back into the shield.

“Is everything alright?!” one of them cried.

“Oh – yes!” Merlin, trying for his best expression of stupidity. “I was helping Knight Valiant with his armour but then there was this snake – here” he quickly ran over to the head of the second snake he had decapitated himself and scooped it up to show the girls, “but he dealt with it for me! It did make me scream though, sorry about that,” he finished with a goofy smile.

The girls looked at him, deeply unimpressed. Merlin flicked a glance to Valiant but the man was simply standing there, apoplectic with rage and unable to do anything about it without killing not one but three servants.

“Well, best be getting to our duties,” he said, slipping the snake’s head into his pocket and hurrying toward the door.

“Coming?”

Merlin made sure to walk with the two girls all the way almost to the kitchen, before doubling back and heading directly for Arthur’s chambers.

“Merlin!” Arthur cried, as he burst the doors open. “You’re supposed to knock!”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Merlin said dismissively. “Valiant’s using a magic shield to fight in the tournament, and he knows I know about it, you’re in danger he’s probably guessed I’m coming to tell you.”

“What?” Arthur said blankly.

“Valiant! His shield is magical!”

Arthur still looked nonplussed so Merlin launched into a detailed description of everything that had happened since Gaius realised Ewan had been bitten by a snake in the fight the evening before, pulling out the snake head as evidence.

“You? You chopped its head off?” Arthur asked incredulously.

“Don’t you believe me?” Merlin cried, hurt.

Arthur picked up the snake’s head slowly and fingered it, apparently examining it, but Merlin knew he was thinking hard.

“I want you to swear to me,” Arthur said finally, “that everything you’ve told me is true.”

“I swear,” Merlin said immediately, “it’s true.”

Arthur examined his face, and Merlin held his gaze, willing him to see the truth in what he was saying.

Looking into the blue of Arthur’s eyes, Merlin suddenly became aware that he’d been so intent on warning Arthur of the danger of Valiant that he’d missed the moment when his magic had stopped fighting him; but holding his gaze now, Merlin dimly thought he could feel it singing.

“I believe you,” Arthur whispered finally, and Merlin rejoiced.

“What are we going to do?” he asked. “Valiant will know you know by now.”

“He knows I have no evidence against him except your word and my father will never accept the word of a servant against the word of a knight,” Arthur said defeatedly.

“That’s not going to stop him! He almost killed another knight yesterday in front of everyone. If he thinks you’re a threat what’s to stop him sending those snakes into your chambers in the middle of the night and striking you dead?”

“So what do you want me to do? Go after him first?”

“Maybe! If you saw the snakes yourself your father would believe _you_!”

“Merlin, what am I supposed to do, walk into Valiant’s chambers and demand he show me the snakes? I can’t, I have to fight the next round of the tournament in only a few hours.”

“Then you better make it quick,” Merlin said confidently. “Scare him into using the snakes and kill them.”

Arthur looked at him, and Merlin wondered if he’d overstepped his bounds, a servant of barely a few days arguing with a prince. But Arthur appeared to be considering, his pride and common sense clearly warring with Merlin’s advice on his face.

Arthur turned away, and Merlin watched the rigid set of his shoulders in anxious anticipation.

“Oh, all right,” Arthur snapped, turning around. “How do you suggest I get him to reveal the snakes to me?”

Merlin’s face broke into the widest grin he’d felt in a long time.

“Go into his chambers,” he said excitedly. “Pretend you’re really rash and hot-headed. Make him think you’re stupid enough to challenge him on your own, it shouldn’t be too hard.”

Arthur made a face that promised he would pay for the jibe later.

“Tell any knights you think you can trust to wait for you outside Valiant’s chambers in secret, they don’t need to know why if you feel they wouldn’t believe my account. Do you have a signal to call for each other or something...?”

Merlin had often heard about such things in tales of knights Will’s father had told him and Will as children. Arthur looked at him like he was an idiot.

“Well, go in and challenge him. You’re better than him, he’ll have to use the snakes to beat you. Then you signal the knights to come in and everyone will see he’s using magic, and he’ll have to stand down.”

“Brilliant plan Merlin,” Arthur said sarcastically. “Except for the part where I have to beat him enough to make him use illegal magic in front of me, then kill the snakes while trying to stop him from killing me at the same time.”

“You can do it,” Merlin said confidently. _You’ve got me._ He couldn’t wait to face Valiant with his magic on his side.

“And how do you figure that?” Arthur snapped.

“Well, you certainly beat the snot out of me the other morning,” Merlin said with a small smile.

Arthur snorted but Merlin thought he saw his lips quirk in a smile.

“You’d go down to a kitten Merlin,” he said instead.

“Right,” Merlin said happily. “Let’s get going then?”

“You’re coming?” Arthur said in surprise.

“Well I’m certainly not staying behind,” Merlin replied.

Arthur looked at him in amazement before shaking his head.

“Of course not,” he said. “Well, come on then.”

***

They arrived outside the closed doors of Valiant’s chambers, while two knights Arthur had picked out for their loyalty named Sir Leon and Sir Pellinore positioned themselves on either side of the door.

Merlin made to knock, but Arthur grabbed his hand before it could hit the wood, gave him a look that said plainly “ _you idiot”_ and threw open the doors and barged in, doors bouncing back off the walls and slamming shut behind them.

“Sire,” Valiant said, looking up in surprise. Merlin thought he looked shifty, and remembering how quickly the snakes had vanished when the serving girls came in, looked around for any sign they could be sneaking up on them.

“Valiant,” Arthur said, sounding over-confident and haughty. “My servant tells me you are using magic to cheat in the tournament. I cannot abide this.”

“He’s lying sire,” Valiant said calmly. “I would never use magic.”

Arthur pulled out the snake head Merlin had given him and threw it on the ground in front of Valiant like a gauntlet.

“I believe him,” he said coldly.

Valiant flicked from the snake’s head to Arthur, Merlin and then around the room, noting the lack of any other knights or guards.

“You’re under arrest for illegal use of magic,” Arthur continued.

“You can’t arrest me,” Valiant said softly. “You’ve no proof. This head could have come from any snake, not the ones on my shield.”

“I never mentioned that the magic you were using caused the snakes on your shield to come alive,” Arthur said. “Though now that you mention it, that’s what my manservant said too.”

Valiant’s face went pale, and then abruptly he grinned.

“And how are you going to arrest me? Your manservant here going to help? He certainly did a great job fighting me this morning.”

“I don’t need any help,” Arthur said arrogantly.

Valiant laughed.

“Kill him!” he cried, and the snakes burst forth from the shield.

Arthur decapitated one and opened his mouth to call for Leon and Pellinore but Valiant rammed him in the side and winded him and Arthur was forced to bring his sword up and defend himself from Valiant’s swing at his throat.

Their swords clanged together as they fought, Arthur still trying to get his breath back when Merlin saw the final snake rearing up behind him to strike him on the leg.

“Arthur!” he cried, and, unable to think of a spell, threw all his magic at the snake. Its eyes bulged, its head crumpled inwards and it fell to the ground, dead.

 Arthur’s sword was twisted out of his hand by a manoeuvre of Valiant’s, but seeing an opening, Arthur kicked Valiant in the gut away from him as hard as he could and shouted for Leon and Pellinore.

They burst through the doors just in time to witness Valiant, sword up, charging an unarmed Arthur.

They drew their weapons and Arthur ducked to pick up his.

Seeing three swords drawn against him and two dead snakes, Valiant dropped his weapon with a loud clatter.

***

Valiant was brought before Uther that very afternoon.

The tournament was suspended so Arthur could testify to witnessing Valiant using magic with his very own eyes.

Merlin felt a slight pang as he watched Valiant hauled away to the dungeons to await execution; however evil he had been, Merlin didn’t think he’d ever be able to stomach the execution of those who practised magic.

Arthur however seemed to be on a high, that Merlin soon realised stemmed from the open approval his father had given him for catching Valiant.

 _Such displays must be rare,_ he thought, watching Arthur saunter down the corridor, _to make him so happy._ Merlin felt a twinge of something like sorrow for the man.

“I’m starving,” Arthur declared happily, as soon as he and Merlin had reached his chambers. “Get me a double serving of lunch would you? You never brought me breakfast.”

“Mmm, I was too busy bringing you news about cheating knights with magical shields instead,” Merlin said.

“Yes,” Arthur said, to Merlin’s surprise. “And thank you. I would never have known about Valiant if it wasn’t for you or gone after him this morning. I’m in your debt.”

“Oh,” Merlin said, pleased and mortified to find himself blushing. “Well, you know, buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

“I can’t really be seen to be buying my servants drinks Merlin,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes. “Though speaking of, have the kitchen send some wine up with my dinner tonight, I feel like something stronger than water after those snakes.”

“Um,” Merlin said, feeling that he might as well take advantage of Arthur’s good mood. “Well, actually, I can’t. I mean, I can tell them to now, but I can’t tell them tonight. I can’t actually....serve-you-at-night,” he finished in a rush.

Arthur turned around slowly to look at him.

“What do you mean, you can’t serve me at night?!”

“Well, um, see, I work for Gaius too, that was actually the job I had before I started working for you, you know, training to be a physician and all - his replacement actually, he wants to retire really soon, but I have a lot to learn, so you know, since I work for you now he has to teach me at night. And I really do have a lot to learn, but that’s the only time he can teach me now so I have to....I can’t work for you at night I’m sorry.”

Arthur stared at him with a perfect mixture of incredulity and irritation.

“Honestly Merlin, what’s the _point_ of having a manservant who can’t work at night?”

“Because I’m so good at spotting magic snakes on shields and things?” Merlin asked hopefully.

Arthur opened his mouth with what looked like a rebuke ready on his tongue, but Merlin tried for his best puppy dog eyes and Arthur relented at the last minute.

“Alright,” he said. “Alright, you can just serve me the rest of the day.”

Merlin grinned in relief.

“Just be the best goddamn servant in Camelot when you _can_ actually do the work alright?” Arthur snapped, apparently uncomfortable with Merlin’s open joy.

“I promise sire,” Merlin said happily. “You won’t regret this.”

***

Merlin was on his way to Gaius’ chambers when he heard the now familiar call.

_Merlin...._

Deciding he had time (it was only late afternoon) he detoured down to the dungeons and entered the dragon’s cave.

The dragon was already waiting for him on its rock.

“Congratulations Young Warlock,” it said as soon as Merlin stepped onto the ledge. “Already, you are salvaging your destiny.”

“What do you mean?” Merlin asked.

“You saved the Prince’s life today did you not?”

“How did you know?” Merlin asked.

The dragon laughed. “For a moment Young Warlock, your destiny grew slightly clearer.”

“It did? Wait, so, what does that mean? If I keep helping Arthur, will that fix my destiny? Will my destiny have any effect on my curse?”

The dragon laughed again.

“You are two sides of the same coin Merlin,” it said, “remember that.”

“I would but it’s a bit vague, do you think maybe you could try something more specific?” Merlin called to it as it flew away.

Good mood nonetheless untarnished by frustratingly unhelpful dragons, Merlin returned to Gaius’ chambers, to find him using one of the severed snake heads to make an anti-venin for Sir Ewan.

Gaius sighed as he added water to mixture.

“It’s not much but it’ll have to do,” he said. “I could only use one snake head, the other was collapsed in completely. Its whole skull had been somehow removed.”

“Oh,” Merlin said sheepishly, “that was me. I had to stop it attacking Arthur and I got a bit carried away.”

“Merlin,” Gaius sighed.

“Well what was I supposed to do?! I don’t know any spells or anything, how else was I going to help Arthur?”

“Just because you _can_ use your magic around Arthur doesn’t mean you should,” Gaius chided.

“I have to,” Merlin said stubbornly, “it’s my destiny.”

“Destiny or not Merlin, do not lose sight of what you are really in Camelot to do,” Gaius said, “find a way to break your curse.”

“I know,” Merlin said, “I just know this will help.”

“And how is that?”

“Dunno,” Merlin said vaguely, unsure of what Gaius would make of his trips to the dragon, “I can just feel it.”

Gaius shook his head and began applying the completed anti-venin to Sir Ewan’s lips.

***

Later that night however, Gaius surprised him by plonking a thick, heavy book in front of his dinner.

“What’s this?” Merlin asked.

“If you are going to risk your neck around Arthur,” Gaius said, “this will help you do it correctly at least.”

Merlin quirked an eyebrow but Gaius was unforthcoming so Merlin opened the book.

Every page was filled with exquisite descriptions of spells.

“This is a book of magic!” he cried.

“Yes,” Gaius said, looking as though he was regretting his decision already. “You won’t be able to use any of the spells while you’re alone of course, but I thought you might study them in case something else ever attacks Arthur again.”

Merlin grinned at him.

“Gaius, thank you,” he said sincerely.

“Just eat your dinner,” Gaius said, hiding a smile.

***

“Catch Merlin,” Arthur said, unexpectedly throwing a dirty sock at Merlin and smirking in delight when it hit him in the face.

“Thank you sire,” Merlin said through gritted teeth, picking the sock slowly off his nose.

“Honestly Merlin, every time,” Arthur said with a laugh.

“Glad I’m a constant source of entertainment for you,” Merlin snapped.

“Oh come on Merlin, lighten up,” Arthur laughed, plainly delighting in goading him.

Merlin made a face and then, taking advantage of a quick glance to the left by Arthur, pegged the dirty sock straight back at him, where it landed in his hair and stayed there.

Arthur turned toward him slowly, face grim.

“Lighten up?” Merlin tried.

Arthur glared at him for a full moment before suddenly charging him.

Merlin laughed at dodged to the left, sprinting to Arthur’s desk when he turned around and saw him still running full tilt after him.

Merlin managed to put the desk between them, and they laughed breathlessly (well, Merlin did. Arthur pretended to frown) while feinting left, right and left again each trying to get around the desk.

Eventually of course, Merlin made a desperate dash for the door and but barely made it two metres past Arthur before he had grabbed him by the wrist.

Spinning him round to face him, Arthur smirked “ _Mer-_ lin –,“ before a quiet “ahem” came from the door and startled them both.

“Arthur,” Morgana said with a raised eyebrow.

Merlin wriggled out of Arthur’s grip and picked up the basket of Arthur’s dirty clothes, walking to the door.

“Merlin!” Arthur called, just before Merlin could step over the threshold.

Merlin turned around and Arthur threw the sock in the basket.

“Thank you sire,” he said with a small smile, but Arthur only nodded and turned to Morgana.

” _What?!?”_ he heard him say to her, as he walked down the corridor.

***

After several weeks of fruitless investigation, Gaius’ burgeoning research into Merlin’s curse was brought to an abrupt halt by the arrival of a mysterious plague.

Merlin was asked to help Gaius full time until a cure could be found, much to Arthur’s open chagrin and Merlin’s secret dismay – he couldn’t use his magic without him. As a result, Merlin had been increasingly grumpy, as he went day without any reprieve from the poisonous itching of his magic.

 _Should’ve told Uther Gaius doesn’t need me or something,_ he thought, moodily scratching his burning skin while he watched Gaius put the stomach contents of one of the patients in a beaker.

“What have I told you about scratching?? You’ll get scars!” Gaius admonished.

“I already _have-_ “

“Gaius!!” the door burst open and Gwen ran in, tears running down her down her face.

“Gwen! What’s the matter, do you have the illness?”

“My father!” she sobbed. “Please Gaius he’s all I have!”

Merlin listened as Gaius explained that he didn’t yet have a cure and Gwen ran off distraught.

“Poor girl,” Gaius said softly, turning back to his worktable.

Merlin on the other hand was formulating a plan.

***

“Merlin,” Arthur said in surprise, as Merlin strode into his chambers, “aren’t you supposed to be helping Gaius?”

“I am,” Merlin said earnestly, “but, um, Gaius is running some tests and he doesn’t need me right now and I got bored so I thought I’d come and check for moths.”

“Moths?” Arthur repeated, with what Merlin knew was his _I-honestly-don’t-know-about-you-sometimes_ face.

“Er – yes. There’s an infestation. Probably related to the plague.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll just carry on?”

Merlin opened the cupboard door and stepped behind it, screened by it from Arthur’s view from the desk he was sitting at.

He pulled out the poultice he’d made earlier and whispered the spell he’d memorised all the previous night. He quickly slipped it into his pocket before the glow of it could give him away and stepped back out from the cupboard.

“All done! No moths!”

“Right,” Arthur said.

“Well, um, better get back to Gaius. Tests are probably finished by now or something.”

Arthur looked at him like he was insane, so Merlin smiled brightly and took a few steps backward, holding the smile.

He realised this was a mistake as soon as Arthur’s face grew even more suspicious at Merlin’s choice to walk backwards, so he had to keep it up all the way to the door and make it look like a deliberate decision, smiling all the while.

Arthur looked bemused all the way to the door, until suddenly, just as Merlin’s hand had finished groping the door behind him and he’d found the knob, he broke into a smirk as though he had figured something out.

“You know Merlin,” he said smugly, “if you miss me you can just come up here and serve me lunch, you don’t need make up excuses about moths.”

” _What?!?”_ Merlin yelped.

“It’s alright!” Arthur said, grinning hugely and stretching his arms behind his head. “You must be starved for intelligent conversation stuck inside that head of yours, it’s understandable why you’d crave my company.”

“You,” Merlin said, pointing at him furiously, “are an arrogant _prat_ and if I never saw you for the next hundred years it would still be too soon to start _missing you._ ”

He stalked away and slammed the door as hard as he could on Arthur’s laughter.

***

Merlin successfully broke into Gwen’s house while she was working in the castle and put the poultice under her father’s sleeping head, congratulating himself on a job well done when it took immediate effect.

He quickly regretted his decision however when Gwen was arrested on suspicion of sorcery the next day.

Try as he might however, Merlin could simply not think of a solution to Gwen’s problem. He couldn’t use magic without Arthur, so curing the rest of the town to make it look less suspicious was out, and he was no more adept at finding the cause of the plague then he was the cause of his curse.

Driven by desperation, Merlin barged in on a meeting of the council to declare himself the sorcerer that cured Gwen’s father, but Arthur quickly shot that plan down by announcing him in love with Gwen.

Shocked, stressed and humiliated, Merlin stumbled vaguely from the council chambers, only dimly aware he was being escorted by Arthur, until he finally came to a complete stop, too shattered by the thought of what might happen to walk any further.

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked softly.

“Hmm? Oh yeah,” Merlin answered noncommittally.

Not feeling particularly warm toward Arthur after his pronouncement at the council meeting, however much it had saved his life, Merlin cast about in his mind for an excuse to leave.

“Well,” he said finally, “better go visit Gwen before it gets dark or I won’t have time.”

“Why not?” Arthur in confusion and Merlin immediately kicked himself for his slip of the tongue. He’d meant, of course, “Before I need to restrain myself with magical manacles so I don’t turn into a suicidal and occasionally homicidal monster,” but he couldn’t very well say that to Arthur.

“Oh, um, gotta help Gaius, lots of work to do with this plague, you know how it is.”

“Gaius is in meetings with my father until after dinner,” Arthur pointed out.

“Yes but there’s a few tasks he’s left me to do and.....I’d rather do them later than now because the guards said I can’t visit Gwen at night.”

“I wasn’t aware of any ‘No Night Visits’ policy in place in the dungeon,” Arthur said, puzzled.

“Well, that’s just what they told me alright?” Merlin said obstinately.

Arthur fixed Merlin with a slightly suspicious look that Merlin didn’t like at all before conceding with an “alright,” and returning to the council chamber.  

***

Gaius did not wait until after dinner to chastise Merlin for his foolishness. Excusing himself from the council early, he shouted at Merlin for about half an hour before finally taking him to help sample the water supply under the castle.

The cause of the contamination in the water was made apparent immediately, as a huge clay monster burst out of the water before sinking back within it.

Leaving Gaius to identify it in one of his books, Merlin went to the dragon, hoping maybe this time it might say something useful instead of vague and frustrating (he was out of luck once again).

Eventually however, the dragon’s comment about elements led Gaius to the solution, and hours later, Merlin was standing outside Gwen’s cell as she was released, having defeated an Afanc with Arthur and Morgana.

“Thank you,” Gwen said to Morgana.

“Don’t thank me,” Morgana smiled, “it was more Merlin.”

Gwen looked at him in shock and open adoration.

“Really??”

“Oh,” Merlin said, uncomfortable. He liked Gwen, but he didn’t want her to think he was a hero. It would be embarrassing if she ended up with a crush on him.

The day was rounded out by a conversation with Gaius in which he explained about Nimueh, the woman who was likely responsible for causing the plague.

“You’d better hope your magic down in the cavern didn’t attract her attention,” Gaius said.

“Why?” Merlin said. He opened his mouth to express a wish that someone would appreciate his skills, minimal as they were under his curse, when an idea ran across his mind.

“Gaius, do you think she could be the one responsible for my curse?”

Gaius hesitated, then got up and walked over to the ladder resting against his bookshelf.

“No,” he answered, pulling down a book, “but I have a few ideas about your curse. Your questions about elements got me thinking. Instead of looking in the more detailed books about curses, perhaps I should start with the basics.”

He opened the tome and Merlin saw a beautifully detailed picture of three women, all with halos; looking closer, Merlin saw that one had a halo made of vines and leaves: another’s halo was the sun and the third, the moon.

Looking closer, he saw that the legs of the women all slowly joined together along the calf, until eventually they morphed into a single pair of feet.

“This is the triple goddess,” Gaius said, “the highest power of the Old Religion.”

Merlin felt a shiver.

“I’ve been unable to establish so far whether your curse is one curse or two separate ones, one that prevents you using your magic and the other that transforms you into the nightly beast. Moreover there doesn’t seem to be much _point_ to either of those things, which is the most perplexing part. But then I looked into this book. You see, the Old Religion worships the Triple Goddess: Arianrod,Goddess of the Moon, Blodeuwedd Goddess of The Earth and Danu Goddess of the Sun. Everything in this world comes under the dominion of one of the goddesses – for instance, plants and animals under Blodeuwedd, the oceans and magic under Arianrod and the heavens and mankind under Danu. Magic is under the rule of the Arianrod and this is why magic is often considered slightly stronger at night and why the most powerful curses are performed under the light of the moon. I believe this is why we can deduce that your curse _is_ in fact only one curse, one that is stronger at night than it is during the day. Merlin, what does your curse do?”

“Um,” Merlin said, “it turns me into a beast, and it stops me using my magic.”

“Yes,” Gaius said impatiently, “but when you are a beast what do you _do?_ ”

“I attack myself,” Merlin answered, “and if someone tries to stop me I attack them too.”

“Yes,” Gaius said, sounding pleased, “and during the day what does your magic do?”

“Nothing,” Merlin said, “not a damn thing I want it to.”

“No Merlin, that’s what it _doesn’t_ do. What _does_ it do?” he asked, grabbing Merlin’s left hand which had strayed to start absentmindedly scratching the burn under his skin.

“It....it itches, and burns, and it.... _feels_ really angry all the time. It hurts me.”

“Correct,” Gaius said.  “You see, initially what tripped me up in my research was looking into spells to change a person’s form. Nowhere could I find one powerful enough to change someone into the kind of monster you become. But now.....Merlin, what is the common theme between what happens to you during the day and what happens to you at night?”

“They’re both really annoying to have to live with?”

“ _Self harm,”_ Gaius answered, ignoring him. “When you are a beast you attack yourself. During the day your magic attacks you. I couldn’t find a spell to turn someone into a self-harming beast because there isn’t one. But there _is_ someone who has both the ability to work magic without spells and the raw power to create a beast like this and that person is _you._ "

He stopped. "Merlin, I believe someone tried to kill you by _cursing your own magic against you.”_

There was a moment of silence in which Gaius waited for Merlin’s reaction and Merlin was unable to offer one.

He didn’t know what to do. He felt sick. His own magic, trying to kill him. All his life, it had been almost like a friend, of source of never-ending trouble and worry for his mother, but comfort and happiness as well. And now this.

“So,” Merlin said, breathing hard. “What, my magic is trying to kill me during the day, but it can’t quite do it as well as it can at night when it can just change me into a monster that does the job properly? Cause what, the magic goddess rules the night? Is that it?”

“Merlin,” Gaius said softly, “your magic isn’t doing this of your own accord. It’s been cursed.”

“How?!” Merlin said, unable to keep the pain out of his voice. “By whom? And _why?_ What have I ever done to anyone?!?”

“I don’t know,” Gaius said, keeping his tone level in the face of Merlin’s shouting, “but I promise you, we will find those things out. We will find a cure for this curse and then we can try and find who did it and why.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said hollowly, “yeah alright. I’m going to move my cot up to the storage room now, I ordered a new one for this room from the market today.”

Gaius said nothing to him while he worked, grunting and heaving the bed awkwardly up the stairs, glad of the hard work to distract him.

When he finally had the bed upstairs, he dove onto it, put the pillow over his face and dwelled on the rage of his magic pumping fire through his veins, until dusk fell and the cold numbing hand of his manacles closed over the lot.

***

“Oh Merlin,” Arthur said the next day, jerking Merlin out of his depressed reflections on his curse.

“Yes?” he asked, suddenly realising he was holding one of the Arthur’s shirts and was supposed to be folding it.

“Since you and Gaius did so well exposing the Afanc I thought I might reward you by inviting you both to eat dinner with me and Morgana,” he said casually, eyes nevertheless watching Merlin closely.

“Er – is that allowed?” Merlin asked, mind sluggishly attempting to come up with an excuse as to why he couldn’t go.

Arthur shrugged. “It is if I say it is. My father might raise an eyebrow but I’m sure he wouldn’t object, he and Gaius are old friends.”

“Erm – well thank you,” Merlin started, “but, um, we’re really busy at the moment, so we probably couldn’t....”

“Of course,” Arthur said lightly, picking up a knife off the table and fiddling with it. “I understand.”

“But, I’ll tell him you offered,” Merlin promised.

“Naturally,” Arthur continued, in the same light tone. “That’ll be all for today Merlin, you’re dismissed.”

Merlin folded the remaining shirt and headed out the door.

Arthur’s eyes followed him suspiciously the entire way.

***

In the end of course, Gaius was right about Merlin’s exposing himself to Nimueh. Her revenge came swifter than even Gaius could have anticipated, in the form of a poisoned chalice.

Merlin’s recollections after drinking the chalice were vague.

He hazily recalled Arthur’s worried face blurring in and out of focus above him and his hands running softly over his neck as he called his name.....Arthur was carrying him to Gaius’ chambers....he was discussing a flower with Gaius while Gwen mopped his forehead....

And then dimly felt observations began blurring with fever dream, as Merlin began to dream of Arthur finding a woman in a red dress....now he was following her into a cave....

And suddenly he was flying through another cave, this one dank and damp and filled with a familiar chanting....where had he heard that before....feeling the surrounds of the cave solidify Merlin walked carefully through the cave, picking his way past hanging wooden symbols he knew he must not touch....but before he could locate the source of the chanting he was ripped from the cave and once again he was standing beside Arthur...”What are you doing?!” he was shouting at the woman in the red dress....

And as the chanting grew fainter, Arthur grew stronger, less a vision and more like seeing him with his waking eyes.

“Arthur....” he whispered, but something cold was coming toward him, coming towards his wrists, and Arthur and the cave were once again growing dimmer. Merlin looked up in panic to see the darkening sky through the top of the cave – Gaius was putting the manacles on him!

“NO!” he screamed, “DON’T!!!”

The cold feeling drew back and Merlin slammed back into the cave beside Arthur just in time to register the ledge they were standing on was crumbling beneath them. Arthur took a running leap at the cave wall of the other side, and Merlin felt himself hanging off the wall without ever having jumped at all.

“It seems we have a visitor,” the woman was saying.

At once they heard a strange clicking noise. By the light of her torch, Merlin and Arthur looked a giant spider racing down the wall toward them.

Arthur swung with his sword and killed it, but the victory was short lived – the cave was soon filled with a strange and ominous clicking noise.

The woman moved her torch and they saw the wall below crawling with spiders.

“I’ll let his friends finish you off,” she said, “it is not your destiny to die at my hand.”

“No!!” Merlin shouted as she walked away and plunged them into darkness but Arthur did not appear to hear.

Before he knew what was happening, a spell for distant light was floating to the top of his mind (and why was it distant light? He was _here_ ) and Merlin was speaking it with the confidence of hours of practise.

“Merlin,” he heard Gaius whisper, “what are you doing?”

“Well come on!!” Arthur shouted, “finish me!!!”

 _Got to get out,_ Merlin thought deliriously, _got to get out Arthur follow me._ He began to climb.

“Climb Arthur!” he called down and after a second’s hesitation, Arthur did.

“Faster!” he said, “follow the light!”

They were almost at the top when Arthur stopped suddenly, and looked to his left. Merlin tried to keep climbing but found that now that Arthur had stopped he could not continue. There in a crevice high up to the right was an innocuous yellow flower.

Merlin recalled the part of the dream where Arthur and Gaius had spoken about needing flowers and suddenly knew it was for him.

“Leave them Arthur!” he called, but Arthur would not listen, and dragged him along as he reached for them, grabbing it just as the spiders caught up with him. One went to attack but Arthur swung at it with his sword and it went tumbling into the abyss taking several below it with it, giving Arthur the few seconds he needed to climb as fast he could.

Merlin hurried ahead of him, pulled always at the same pace, practically feeling Arthur’s exertion as he neared the top; and then the dream began to dissolve, as Merlin felt himself rising higher toward the surface of the cave – or was that the beast, rising higher in his body? He was getting away from Arthur, he was being sucked out of the top....he could _hear_ a growl inside his own mind, and feel his body break out in sweat, but a coldness was closing over him and then he knew no more.

***

When he awoke, it was to the sight of Gaius and Gwen hugging each other.

“Merlin!” Gaius said, as he rose up.

“No I’m a ghost come back to haunt you,” Merlin replied cheekily, and suddenly he couldn’t speak at all, because Gwen was kissing him full on the mouth.

“Sorry,” she sorry anxiously, when she finally pulled away, “it’s just...I thought you were dead.”

“Its fine,” Merlin replied, unable to think of anything else to say, and still in shock. “It’s more than fine.”

Suddenly aware of how such a statement could be taken, Merlin quickly changed the conversation and asked, “erm – what happened?”

Gwen was ushered out as politely as possible and then Gaius turned to Merlin.

“What did you do?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” Merlin answered, “what did I do?”

Merlin listened dumbfounded as Gaius explained as, surprised by Merlin’s shout, he had not put the manacles on him in time, but Merlin had not transformed. Instead he had summoned a glowing blue light, calling Arthur’s name.

“But,” Gaius finished, “it didn’t last. You started sweating and growling and I put them on you again just in time. Merlin, how did you do it?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin whispered.

He thought he’d been fever dreaming, but perhaps he wasn’t. Perhaps some part of him really was there with Arthur, guiding him with a light.

And if that were true...

Maybe his destiny with Arthur was strong enough to keep even the beast at bay!

“Merlin?” Gaius asked, “are you alright? Your eyes look a little glittery.”

“I’m fine,” Merlin croaked, licking his lips in excitement. “I’m fine.”

***

It was almost a week before Gaius would allow him out of his chambers again, as his cursed magic kept fighting the healing process.

“Only a few hours Merlin,” Gaius said sternly, as Merlin dressed to go out, “you need to be well rested for your return to work tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry,” Merlin said with a smile, “I’ll be fine”.

His first trip that morning was the most important. He knocked politely on Arthur’s door and waited patiently until he called “come in.”

He had clearly just returned from training, as another servant was removing his tunic in front of a pile of mail and armour.

As soon as Arthur saw who it was, his face softened.

“You can leave,” he said dismissively to the servant, and the man picked up the tunic and his armour and left.

“Gaius told me what you did for me,” Merlin said, as soon as the door closed, “how you disobeyed your father and risked your life to get me the antidote.”

Merlin wanted to tell him about how he been there with him – how he had seen Arthur’s determination to save Merlin’s life even at the possible cost of his own, how he had refused to give up on him even when everything seemed hopeless.

But he couldn’t.

So instead he settled for taking a deep breath, moving closer to Arthur, and saying as sincerely as possible: “Thank you.”

He expected Arthur to tease him, make a joke, downplay the heaviness of the moment.

But he surprised him by instead reaching a hand to grab his shoulder and saying softly “Always.”

Merlin smiled shyly.

He opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly, looking at Arthur, he realised Arthur was standing half-naked, holding onto his shoulder.

The sudden rush of heat through his body made Merlin worry for a moment that Gaius was wrong about his recovery and he was coming down with fever again.

“Well,” he said, voice coming out strangled, “um, that’s....that’s all I wanted to say....”

“Right,” Arthur said, letting go of him and striding over to his cupboard. “Don’t suppose I could get you to do something useful while you’re here Merlin and get you to dress me?”

“No!” Merlin said, a little faster than he intended.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Should’ve known better than to imagine I could get _you_ to do some work. I bet you’ve been well for days.”

“Hey!” Merlin protested, “I was dying!”

“Death by flower,” Arthur said with a quirk of the mouth, “only _you_ could die in so girly a fashion Merlin.”

“Whereas you’ll probably just die skewered in the arse by a wild boar on a hunt gone wrong or something.”

“Only if I’m taking you to scare away all the game Merlin,” Arthur responded, “and speaking of hunting –“

“No!” Merlin clapped his hands over his ears, “you are _not_ finishing that sentence, we are not going hunting.”

Arthur smirked as Merlin backed toward the door, hands clapped over his ears. Before he turned the knob however Arthur shouted “Merlin!” and Merlin looked back.

“See you at work tomorrow,” Arthur said finally, and Merlin nodded.

***

The second trip was probably no less important, but Merlin dawdled all the way there, trying to put as much time between himself and the moment he could no longer put off the inevitable.

Soon however, the afternoon began to make itself felt and Merlin knew if he didn’t do it while she was on her way back from the water pump he might never catch her in time.

“Gwen!” he called out from he was waiting for her on the courtyard stairs.

“Oh!” she cried, almost dropping her bucket.

“How are you?” she asked, hurrying over.

“I’m fine,” he said with a smile, “Gaius says I can return to work tomorrow.”

“That’s great!” she replied.

There was an awkward pause between them.

“Listen Gwen,” he started.

Gwen put her bucket down, bit her bottom lip and lowered her head.

“Gwen?” he asked concerned.

“I’m listening!” she assured him, voice a little thick. “Go ahead!”

Merlin felt a pang for her in his heart, but he knew it would be crueller to drag it out.

“About what happened when I woke up....I’m sorry but....you’re my best friend here in Camelot and I just don’t see you that way.”

Gwen nodded without saying anything, lowering her head even further.

“Forgive me?” he asked.

“Of course!” she choked out, “of course you haven’t done anything wrong.”

He sighed.

“Gwen?” he asked.

She looked up and her eyes were sparkling.

He held out his arms and she accepted the hug, finally breaking down on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “You’ll find someone so much better than me, you will. You’re pretty and brave and honest and someone will come along that doesn’t need you to be the only real friend they have in Camelot.”

She sniffed.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

She pulled back.

“It’s alright,” she said huskily, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry I made you comfort me about you.”

She frowned a little at the confusion in her sentence.

“I mean –“

“That’s alright,” he cut her off, “that’s what a friends are for.”

She gave a small smile.

“Come on I’ll walk you back to Morgana’s room,” he held out an elbow and she took it, and together they walked arm in arm back through the castle.

***

“How much longer?” Merlin asked, watching Gaius stitch up the wound.

“If you’re so eager for me to be finished you could help me you know Merlin,” Gaius said without heat.

Merlin made a face.

“Actually, I suppose if we’re saying I’m training you up to be the new physician, you had better actually start learning how to be a physician,” Gaius said thoughtfully, pausing mid-stitch.

“I suppose,” Merlin said unenthusiastically, “are you still stitching or are you done?”

Gaius obediently finished the task.

He stood up and looked down at him.

“He’ll be awake in a few hours, up and about in a day or so but he shouldn’t do anything strenuous. What does he do?”

“Don’t know,” Merlin answered, “Didn’t really get much of a conversation before he fainted. Says his name is Lancelot but I don’t think he’s from Camelot.”

“Well he can stay with us until he’s well enough to be on his way then,” Gaius said, standing up to leave.

***

Lancelot was polite, gracious, kind and, Merlin couldn’t help but notice, incredibly handsome.

He was a perfect houseguest in every way, and Merlin felt guilty about the way Gaius slyly slipped a sleeping draught into the medicines he was taking come nightfall so he couldn’t see Merlin with the manacles and ask any awkward questions.

It was perhaps this that led him to ask Arthur if Lancelot could try out for the knighthood when he expressed a lifelong wish to join the knights of Camelot.

“I know someone,” Merlin rushed in to say after Arthur complained about a lack of decent knights.

“You?” Arthur asked sceptically.

Merlin nodded. “He’s very good, he saved my life.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Well that’s a good recommendation.”

“He is!” Merlin said, taking Arthur’s teasing perhaps a little more seriously than he might have done if he hadn’t been racked with guilt over drugging Lancelot to hide his secret. “He’s brave and strong and loyal and kind and he’ll obey any order, he’s one of the most chivalrous people I’ve ever met I promise.”

“Is there anything he can’t do?” Arthur asked sarcastically.

“I don’t think so,” Merlin replied honestly.

Arthur’s steps slowed a little and his face darkened slightly.

“How’d you meet him then?” he asked stiffly.

“When he saved my life,” Merlin responded.

“And you were what? Swanning about like a damsel in distress and he was your knight in shining armour?” Arthur sneered meanly.

“Well no, because you have to agree to make him a knight first,” Merlin responded, confused. “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t _have_ a problem _Mer_ -lin,” Arthur responded, shoving roughly past him.

“So you’ll see him then?” Merlin asked.

 “Fine!” Arthur gritted out. “I’ll have a look at this Lancelot and he damn well better be as _amazing_ as you keep saying!”

He stalked off, leaving Merlin utterly perplexed.

***

Merlin rushed to tell Lancelot the good news before Gaius stopped their celebrations in their tracks by pointing out only nobles could become knights. Merlin therefore rounded out the afternoon with a trip to the library to steal a book on the genealogy of nobles and carried it and some parchment inside his jacket to Arthur’s chambers.

He was nervous about attempting this spell in Arthur’s chambers; it wasn’t like the poultice that could be hidden neatly and quickly inside his pocket.

Arthur however was in an appalling mood and didn’t seem to notice Merlin. He opened his drawers and cupboard doors at random apparently just to slam them shut; tore up the parchment he was working on in a tantrum when he couldn’t get a sentence right and glared and shouted at Merlin to get out of his sight whenever he spotted him.

Merlin was therefore largely left alone to sneak into the servant’s quarters adjoining Arthur’s room, stretching the very limit of his magic as it wavered dangerously on the cusp of rebelling against him again so far from Arthur.

Eventually however, Merlin completed the spell and he tucked the book and Lancelot’s newly forged seal under his jacket and exited Arthur’s chambers, narrowly escaping the boot Arthur tossed at him as he left.

Lancelot, by comparison to Arthur’s filthy mood, was a joy to spend time with. He was always cheerful and polite and especially seemed to enjoy flirting with Gwen while she fitted him for the new clothes she would make him. Merlin smiled at Gwen’s blush, pleased she had found someone so quickly after letting her down.

Lancelot’s tryout was an unabashed success that not even Arthur’s foul behaviour could mar.

He arrived late, made fun on Lancelot’s name when he told it to him and seemed to particularly enjoy smacking Lancelot to the ground and giving him a long list of menial chores as part of his “training”.

Merlin shook his head at him as he and Gwen went over to congratulate Lancelot and Arthur’s face darkened like a thundercloud. He told the knights it was time to spar, and knocked his opponent clean out.

Lancelot worked for the rest of the day at sweeping out the stables. Merlin, following Arthur back to his chambers to remove his mail and armour after training, expected him to go to Lancelot and spar with him unawares, as he usually did as the next step in tryouts, but Arthur made no move to get up from his desk.

Eventually Merlin prompted: “Aren’t you going to go test Lancelot for basic training now sire?”

“What _is_ it with you and _Lancelot?”_ Arthur asked.

Merlin stared at him.

“Fine,” Arthur said, throwing down his quill. “Whatever you want _Mer_ -lin.”

Lancelot came to Merlin a couple of hours later to inform him that he had made basic training. Merlin sought Arthur out before dusk fell to thank him for giving Lancelot a chance. Arthur looked like he had swallowed a lemon, but nodded stiffly and said: “he’s good.”

He was quiet all of the next day.

***

News came to Uther that a flying beast was on its way to Camelot.

Merlin was grilled about his own experiences with it relentlessly by Gaius, and made to help him look through textbooks to identify it.

Meanwhile Lancelot’s test was moved forward so he could help in the upcoming battle against it. Merlin and Gwen once again made their way down to the training field to watch as Lancelot battled Arthur.

Arthur seemed to be fighting almost against himself as he battled Lancelot; he would swing at him aggressively, but then his eyes would flick over to Merlin and Gwen and his next few moves would be controlled and rather gentler than his usual fighting style.

As a result Lancelot beat him easily.

Arthur grudgingly took him to be presented to Uther to knight.  

***

“Well this is where I have to leave you,” Merlin said, looking down the corridor to where Arthur stood waiting for them outside the doors to the hall hosting Lancelot’s knighting celebration, face impatient and arms folded.

“Aren’t you coming Merlin?” Lancelot asked.

“Oh, no,” Merlin said evasively, “I have to...got a lot of work for Gaius.”

“Surely he can give you one night off?”

“COME ON LANCELOT!” Arthur bellowed from the other end of the corridor.

“You’d better not keep him waiting,” Merlin said, “sorry about him; he’s not normally like this. Well, he is normally an ass, but not this bad.”

“LANCELOT!”

“Bye,” Merlin said, walking back toward Gaius’ chambers.

***

The celebrations were short lived however.

The next morning, three guards came for Lancelot to arrest him for fraud.

Merlin felt terrible. He went to visit Lancelot immediately, and apologised as profusely as he could, but Lancelot only told him the mistake was his own.

Merlin was quiet as he gathered Arthur’s dirty washing after returning from his visit.

Arthur watched him carefully the entire time, face screwed up with indecision.

Before Merlin made to leave, he appeared to come to a choice. He walked over to Merlin and clapped him on the shoulder, making him jump in surprise.

“I just wanted to say,” he said solemnly, “that I know how important Lancelot was to you and I’m sorry for your loss. I know it was none of my business, but if you....ever need a....”

He appeared to choke momentarily.

“.... _friend_....I’m here.”

“What are you talking about?” Merlin asked in confusion. Something horrible occurred to him.

“Oh gods,” he said, “your father’s going to execute him!”

“What?” Arthur asked, “Of course not! But,” he made a face as though saying something very difficult to someone who might not want to hear it, very similar to the one Gaius pulled when he told a patient they were going to die, “Merlin, he will be banished from Camelot forever.”

Merlin stared at him.

“I know,” he said.

“And you might not ever see him again,” Arthur clarified.

Merlin continued to stare at him blankly, utterly confused as to why Arthur didn’t think he already knew this.

“I know,” he repeated.

Arthur frowned.

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

Merlin shrugged.

“Well, yeah. He was a really good friend, and I feel bad for what happened to him, but I did only meet him a week ago,” he said, returning his attention to picking up Arthur’s trousers from the floor.

Arthur meanwhile looked like he was having a revelation.

“Huh,” he said, face lighting up.

“You know what Merlin?” he said, “I think I’ll get you bring me up some wine and honeycakes before you return to Gaius.”

“What?!” Merlin cried. “But I won’t be able to visit Lancelot for the last time before he’s banished!”

“Never mind that,” Arthur said, smiling wide. “ _I’ll_ visit him.”

“But –“ But Arthur was already out the door.

“WHAT ABOUT ALL THAT STUFF ABOUT ME NEVER SEEING HIM AGAIN?!” Merlin called after him as he strode down the corridor, but Arthur no longer seemed to care.

***

In the afternoon, the creature attacked. Merlin watched from his window, helpless, as Arthur battled it with a group of knights, too far from Arthur for his magic to be of any use.

Gaius meanwhile had finally found the creature in one of his books.

“It’s a griffin,” he told him, “it can only be killed by magic.”

“Then I have to be with Arthur when it strikes again,” Merlin said.

But Uther could not be persuaded of the truth of Gaius’ words. Instead, he insisted Arthur ride out with his knights for a second attempt at it that night.

“Why to _night_?” Merlin said pacing hysterically around Gaius’ workshop, hands held out in front of him bound by the manacles.

“What am I supposed to do?!”

“We have to hope that Arthur lives,” Gaius said grimly.

“That’s not good enough!” Merlin roared, surprising himself. Gaius raised an eyebrow.

“We can’t just let him go out there and die,” he said again more calmly.

“What do you suggest Merlin?” Gaius asked.

Merlin let out the breath he’d been holding. He had an idea, and he knew Gaius wouldn’t like it.

“Let me go out there,” he said.

“What? Merlin, what do you plan to do in your manacles?”

“I won’t have my manacles,” Merlin said, “not once I see Arthur. Gaius I think....when I’d been poisoned. I was there, with him somehow, in that cave. It was night, and I didn’t transform. I think being with Arthur stopped it, the way that being around him lets me use my magic during the day.”

Gaius looked at him like he was insane.

“Merlin, you cannot risk it,” he said. “What if it doesn’t work? You’ll kill yourself, not to mention all the knights that attack you once you transform.”

“I won’t transform in front of them,” Merlin said, “I’ll hide in some bushes or something until I see Arthur and take the manacles off then.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Gaius said, “Merlin what do you think they would do if they saw a second monster out tonight?”

“There won’t be any second monster because I won’t transform!”

“Merlin!”

Gaius stood up from the chair he’d been sitting in.

“I cannot allow you to do this,” he said seriously. “It is too risky.”

“I’m sorry Gaius,” Merlin whispered, “I have to.”

Gaius walked over to the door and made to block it, but at that moment, the door burst open and Gwen ran in.

Merlin hurriedly sat by Gaius’ worktop and hid his hands beneath it.

“Merlin!” she cried, “Lancelot’s gone to fight the griffin!”

“Gaius,” Merlin said significantly, “Show Gwen to my room, she will have a better view of where Lancelot is fighting the griffin from there.”

“No,” Gaius said coldly, but Gwen wasn’t listening to him – she had run up the stairs at the mention of Lancelot’s name.

Merlin bolted for the door as soon as her back was turned, snatching the key from the bench and his jacket to awkwardly hide his hands beneath and ran out the door before Gaius could stop him.

He dashed through the castle, taking as many of the corridors that he knew were likely to be deserted at this hour as possible.

As almost everyone was out fighting the griffin or watching the fight from windows on higher floors however, Merlin came across no one.

He raced through the courtyard as quickly as possible, dodging to avoid Lancelot and ran out across the moat until he could see where the knights were lining up against the griffin.

Or where they had lined up. All the knights were unconscious.

Panicking, Merlin raced through the bodies until he located Arthur, making sure he was ok.

A screech came from behind him, just as Lancelot rode up in front of him.

Griffin behind, Lancelot in front. If he transformed, Lancelot would see.

But he wouldn’t transform. Arthur was here.

“Ok Merlin,” he told himself, putting the key awkwardly in his mouth and raising his hands to meet it. “Now or never.”

The griffin screeched again. It had spotted him.

Merlin concentrated on getting the key in to the lock and turning as he had hundreds of times before.

_Come on..._

Suddenly the griffin spotted him. Merlin panicked and tried to make the lock open faster.

_Come on!_

The griffin was charging at him.

Merlin wrenched on the key with his teeth as hard as he could and felt something in them twist and strain before the lock clicked open.

Not waiting to see if any damage had been done, Merlin yanked the manacles open and threw them aside.

“Hah!” he said spreading his arms and waiting for his magic to rush to his aid....

....and instead doubled over in pain as heat flushed through his body and he began to sweat.

“No!!”

He looked up in terror – the griffin was going to get him before he transformed!

Suddenly, a lance broke on the griffin’s side and the griffin turned.

It was Lancelot.

“LANCELOT!” Merlin screamed, as the second hot flush broke through him. “RUN!!”

“Merlin!” he called back, “I cannot leave-“

“FROM ME, RUN AWAYFROM _ME!!”_

Lancelot frown in confusion, that quickly turned to terror, as Merlin’s bones began to crack. His wrists twisted and grew, his legs contorted and swelled and deep inside of him, a terrifying growl clawed out of his throat.

The griffin turned its attention to him again.

Merlin felt a murderous rage toward it before he blacked out.

***

Merlin slowly opened his eyes to bright light, a warm bed, and exquisite pain.

“Phwooaaar....” he groaned, wriggling about in the bed. His flailing arm crashed into something warm and slumped in a chair over his bed. Funny.

The warm thing stirred and sat up, blearily opening its eyes, and Merlin realised it was Arthur.

“Arthur....” he croaked.

Arthur’s eyes widened.

“Gaius!” he called, “he’s awake!”

Merlin’s mind drifted aimlessly while he waited for Gaius, catching on random bits of dust in the air and flying with them as they circled toward the bed. Toward the cupboard. Around Arthur.

Funny. When they got to Arthur, the light from the window would catch in them, and they swirled around his head like a halo.

“Your hair is pretty,” he tried to say.

But what came out was “yrng arg is priteh”

“Don’t speak,” Arthur shushed him.

Gaius rushed over to Merlin with a goblet full of milky white liquid.

“Milk of the poppy,” he whispered, tipping it down his throat, “There we go...”

Merlin slipped into unconsciousness once more.

When he awoke for the second time, he was far more lucid, and in a great deal of pain. He lay trying to breathe without aggravating the wounds on his chest for awhile, wondering if it was the pain that woke  him, when he registered he was wearing his manacles, and the sound of shouting was coming through his closed bedroom door.

“Why won’t you let me see him?!” Arthur was shouting, “I am the prince I demand to see my servant!”

“He needs his rest sire,” Gaius said sternly, “you’ve been in here quite enough.”

“I want to visit him again,” Arthur said stubbornly, “I can do what I like.”

“He is too ill, he won’t even be conscious –“

“ _Bollocks,”_ Arthur swore in frustration. “It’s because its night isn’t it? There’s something-”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about sire,” Gaius said firmly. “Merlin is my patient and my patient needs rest. As do you. Your father has been asking after you. I cannot allow you see him anymore.”

There was a long silence, and then Merlin heard a door slam.

Gaius shuffled slowly up the stairs and opened the door to see Merlin awake.

“I suppose you heard all that,” he sighed.

“What happened?” he groaned.

Gaius sighed.

“I told you not to do it Merlin. I warned you there would be consequences.”

“ _What happened?”_

Gaius took the chair recently occupied by Arthur and sat down heavily.

“You transformed as soon as you removed the manacles, in front of Lancelot. He managed to hide himself, while the griffin attacked you. Thank goodness or you might not be alive. You and griffin fought for hours according to Lancelot’s account, but eventually you won. They found....” he hesitated, “bits of the griffin strewn all over the clearing.”

Merlin felt bile rising in throat that refused to stay down. Gaius fetched him a bucket just in time and he heaved into it.

“Then what?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You ran off. You attacked yourself as usual, but the fight with the griffin wore you out and pretty soon the beast collapsed in a nearby meadow before it could kill itself. Lancelot found you unconscious the next day, and brought you to me.”

“How bad is it?” Merlin asked.

In answer, Gaius pulled down the bedclothes.

A deep, gigantic slash ran across his torso from his right shoulder to his left hip. It was sewn with the largest stiches Merlin had yet seen.

The rest of his body was covered in smaller scratches, cuts and bruises.

He swallowed.

“Lancelot?”

“Told everyone you’d followed him out after the knights trying to find Arthur and make sure he was safe. He said the beast that killed the griffin attacked you, and he killed it while defending you.”

“Where is he?”

“He came to see you several times,” Gaius said, “but you did not wake up in time. Arthur pushed for his reinstated knighthood in view of his saving your life and killing a beast so monstrous it destroyed the griffin, but Uther would not budge. He was forced to leave. I’m sorry.”

Merlin felt sorrow welling up for his friend.

He’d unacceptably risked Lancelot’s life in a foolhardy attempt to prove he had found the key to his curse, and Lancelot, instead of being disgusted with him, had kept his secret and been driven out.

He wished there was some way he could apologise to him.

“And Arthur?” he asked, casting around for something else to talk about to assuage his guilt.

“He’s been in to see you every day since you were brought in,” Gaius replied. “I’ve had to force him out at night though. He grows suspicious, but it’s easy enough to explain as my looking out for his rest as well as yours.”

“You don’t think that will become a problem, or that he’s genuinely convinced there’s something going on?” Merlin asked worriedly.

“Even if he is, I’m sure it will be simple enough to convince him he’s growing paranoid with lack of sleep. He hasn’t had a lot of it lately.”

Warmth spread through Merlin slowly from his heart. Inexplicably he felt the urge to cry.

“Merlin?”

“It’s nothing,” Merlin said, shaking his head to get control of himself. “I’m just touched.”

Gaius looked at him in understanding, and got up from the chair.

“I’ll leave you to your rest,” he said.

“Wait,” Merlin said.

Gaius turned around.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I really did think I wouldn’t change. I don’t...don’t understand what happened. It worked in the cave.”

“Merlin,” Gaius replied, “you were never _in_ the cave.”

He snapped the door shut, leaving Merlin alone and confused.

***

But for Merlin, the worst was yet to come.

His mishandling of the manacles in a desperate attempt to yank them off before the griffin attacked had damaged them somehow. Now whenever he wore them, though they still closed properly and still blocked the transformation, Merlin could sense cracks in the feeling of numbness, and sometimes thought he could hear a growl coming through them.

“I can’t risk it,” he said to Gaius one night, as soon as he well enough to sit up at the table and eat dinner. “I endangered so many lives already that night, I can’t do it again. Especially not to you. The manacles work, but they’re not stable. I need to make sure I’m secure.”

“How?” Gaius asked.

“The dungeons,” Merlin said. “I’ll find an empty cell and sleep in there at night.”

“Merlin,” Gaius said pityingly, “the dungeons are meant for prisoners. They have rudimentary beds at best, no blankets, they’re cold...”

“I’ll drag a more comfortable mattress down,” Merlin said, “and hide some extra blankets behind one of the stones in the wall or something.”

“Merlin...”

“Please Gaius,” Merlin said. “I screwed up so badly, I can’t do it again.”

So Gaius spoke to one of the guards and sussed out a cell in the bottom level that had not been used in over ten years.

After slipping a sleeping draught into a goblet of water he was drinking, Gaius stole the key to the cell from his key chain and brought it up to Merlin. Merlin was rather impressed with his sneakiness.

As soon as Merlin was well enough he dragged a mattress down to the dungeons, explaining to the guard he’d been put in charge of replacing some of the older beds in the cells when one of the knights couldn’t do it.

He put it up against the side of the wall, made it as comfortable as possible, and brought down as many blankets as he could lay his hands on, hanging some on the wall to keep out the damp, and trusting to the lower level’s general disuse.

From then on, as soon as he was recovered and back to working for a relieved Arthur (who disguised his pleasure at seeing Merlin healthy and serving again by throwing even more jibes at him than usual), Merlin would go to Gaius’ chambers, remove his manacles from the box they lived in, and, after dinner, take himself down to the dungeons, sneaking past the guards each night to lock himself into his cell.

Following his recovery, Merlin entered into a depression he struggled to pull himself out of. He had been so sure that he had found the key to stopping his transformation, a cure, and all it had yielded was more questions.

To make matters worse, Merlin and Gaius threw themselves harder than ever back into researching Merlin’s curse, and could come up with nothing.

Merlin jumped one day, as, with a cry of frustration, Gaius threw the book he was reading against the wall.

“Gaius?”

“Nothing,” Gaius said, “just growing frustrated with this curse.”

“We’ll find it,” Merlin insisted, “we will, I can’t have been the only one, there has to be a record of the curse.”

“There’s not!” Gaius burst out, “Merlin there _is_ no curse to make a sorcerer’s magic rebel against themselves. Sorcerers _are_ their magic, it cannot be turned against them, not by any man. Not even, as far as I know, by any dragon. Merlin, in order to have exacted this curse, the person who did would need a level of power close to that of the gods themselves. And there is just _no magical being_ I can think of that could do that, not even you.”

 “You’ll think of something,” Merlin said hopefully. “And, you know, till then I just keep serving Arthur, my destiny seems to keep it at bay at least...”

“But for how long? And exposure to Arthur gives you access to your magic during the day but it doesn’t prevent your transformation at night. You already need to be in the dungeon at night, what if your manacles don’t last much longer?”

“Gaius,” Merlin asked fearfully, desperately trying to keep despair at bay. “What are you saying?”

Gaius looked at Merlin and Merlin saw him take in his ragged breathing and tight shoulders.

“Nothing my boy,” he sighed eventually, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “I’m just exhausted that’s all. I’ve unloaded it onto you but that wasn’t fair. Don’t mind anything I say. I’ll keep looking, don’t you worry.”

Merlin nodded, biting his lip, and managed to summon a smile from somewhere for Gaius before saying “well, Arthur needs his stable mucked out, so I better...”

“Yes of course,” Gaius nodded tiredly. “I’ll see you later.”

Merlin kept his composure as he walked out the door and down the staircase; but turning into the corridor, he all but ran into the nearest alcove, where, hidden from everyone else, he turned his face into the stone and dry sobbed.

***

Arthur meanwhile had picked up on Merlin’s depression.

At first he began by lessening Merlin’s workload (though he never would have admitted to such a thing).

When this appeared to make no difference in Merlin’s mood, Arthur switched to trying to reassure him about it.

“Don’t worry Merlin,” he said, clapping a hand on his shoulder one day, “plenty of my knights have suffered worse injuries than that and they were back on their feet in no time. Few more weeks it’ll be like it never happened.”

“Of course sire,” Merlin said, doing his best to summon a smile for him, but it slid of his face the moment Arthur looked away and Arthur still looked worried.

Next Arthur moved on to asking him about it.

“Is it Morgana?” he asked as Merlin shuffled in morose as ever one day. “Because she’s fine, she’ll be up and about in no time.”

A man named Edwin Muirden had arrived in Camelot and attempted to have Gaius sacked by directing a magical beetle straight to her brain.

Putting together Gwen’s observations regarding his behaviour with Merlin’s own about his equipment, Merlin and Gaius had been able to deduce the mysterious box of beetles as the cause of Morgana’s illness. Asking Arthur to call a court session, Gaius had presented the box to Uther, and then Merlin had whispered a spell to animate the beetles before his very eyes and prove they were magical.

Edwin had been forced to cure Morgana and then sentenced to hang.

“No, it’s not Morgana,” Merlin said, “it’s nothing, I’m fine Arthur.”

Arthur nodded as he always did when Merlin reassured him, and asked him to fetch his lunch.

***

The next day, Merlin arrived to Arthur’s chambers late. Despite the attempts to make it more homely, it was still hard sleeping in the dungeons and Merlin was tired and often overslept.

He walked in the room and stopped dead. An enormous plate full of honeycakes he hadn’t fetched from the kitchen was sitting in the middle of Arthur’s table.

He stared at them.

“I thought I’d treat myself last night,” Arthur said, casually walking out from behind the changing screen. “But I ordered too many by mistake. You can have the rest, if you like.”

Merlin stared at the plate, warmth welling in his heart, and to his horror, tears welling in his eyes.

“Well?” Arthur asked, “Can’t let them sit around all day.”

Merlin nodded, waiting until his emotions were again under his control. He took a seat at the table and reached for a honeycake.

“Good?” Arthur asked as he chewed.

“Mmm,” Merlin replied mouth full of cake.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full Merlin it’s disgusting,” Arthur said immediately.

Merlin laughed.

“Thank you sire,” he said sincerely once he had swallowed the cake. And then, significantly: “Honeycakes really cheer me up.”

“Well,” Arthur said gruffly, turning his face away. “Good. Can’t have you in a bad mood all the time it saps morale.”

“Morale?”

“Of everyone who comes into contact with you Merlin, you’re like a raincloud honestly,” Arthur said.

Merlin smiled.

“Are you going to have any?” he asked.

“Of course not, I just told you, I ordered too many. Those are for you.”

Merlin bowed his head and blushed.

“Thank you sire,” he said finally, reaching for another cake. “This was just what I needed.”

“You’re welcome,” Arthur said quietly.

***

Merlin’s new found good mood lasted through the next few weeks, despite his move to sleeping in the deepest dungeons at night, and despite the weather – for rain had come with a vengeance to Camelot.

Arthur insisted on training his knights through the relentless downpour and rising mud until even Uther told Arthur to stop, as the constant complaining about him from the knights was becoming annoying.

Arthur was grouchy and restless cooped up inside with nothing to do other than sit in council meetings. Merlin found he didn’t mind though. Wanting an outlet from his boredom and frustration, Arthur took to playing games with Merlin in his chambers in his free time, digging up an old chess set he’d had as a child and teaching him to play (persisting with it even after it became clear that every game ended with the pair of them grabbing all the pieces off the board and pelting them at each other).

On one particularly memorable afternoon, Merlin had declared that chess was an old and stuffy game for old and stuffy people.

“Fine Merlin,” Arthur said peevishly, “what would you like to play then?”

“Dunno,” Merlin answered.

“Oh that’s very helpful,” Arthur said sarcastically, leaning back and folding his arms. “What did you used to do in Ealdor when it rained?”

“Wasn’t much you could do to avoid the rain in leaky wooden cottages,” Merlin answered, “so Will and I used to cover ourselves in mud for camouflage and play hide and seek.”

“Hide and seek?” Arthur frowned.

“Yeah,” Merlin said. “You do know what that is don’t you?”

“Of course I do Merlin,” Arthur said.

Merlin grinned to himself, then explained. “One person is the Seeker, and they have to count to twenty while the other person hides. Then they try and find them.”

“That,” Arthur said, “sounds like a ridiculous game.”

“It’s fun,” Merlin said, “here I’ll start.”

“ _No_ Merlin –“

“One,” Merlin said, covering his eyes and ignoring him. “Two, three...”

When he opened them Arthur was nowhere to be found.

The tell-tale calm of his magic that indicated his presence in a room was also gone, so Merlin got up to look for him in the adjacent guest’s quarters. When that proved fruitless, he moved into the next room, and the next, and then finally combed every room in Arthur’s wing of the castle but to no avail.

Eventually, the afternoon grew late and Merlin had to concede that he could not find Arthur. He made his down to Gaius’ past the kitchens and saw Arthur talking with Sir Leon eating a pear.

“Where were you??” Merlin demanded, not caring he was interrupting their conversation.

“Forgive the rudeness of my servant please Sir Leon,” Arthur said, dragging Merlin away, “I’ll have him suitably flogged.”

“Did you hide _on the other side of the castle?!”_ Merlin hissed as soon as they were alone.

“You never specified the boundaries,” Arthur said, “why couldn’t I hide near the kitchens?”

“It’s too big!” Merlin said, “It would take all _day_ to search the castle! That’s not fair! You’re supposed to just hide in your room or something!”

“If you’re no good at this game it’s manlier to just admit it Merlin,” Arthur said with a smirk.

“Fine,” Merlin said coldly. “I have to go do chores for Gaius now but tomorrow _you_ can be the seeker.”

Arthur tried the next day to pretend he didn’t really enjoy hide and seek but Merlin insisted that Arthur had been the hider yesterday and now it was his turn.

 _It really was too easy,_ he laughed to himself, watching Arthur go into another room from behind the tapestry.

As long as Merlin’s magic kept alerting to him to whenever Arthur was coming close by growing painless and obedient, Merlin had an unfair advantage over Arthur he couldn’t help but use.

He snickered to himself picturing Arthur looking under yet another bed when suddenly the tapestry was yanked open.

“Gwen!” he said in surprise.

“Merlin? What are you doing behind here?”

Merlin could hear Arthur’s footsteps again.

“Quick!” he whispered, dragging her behind the tapestry and pulling it closed.

Arthur walked into another room.

“What are we doing?” Gwen whispered.

“Playing hide and seek,” Merlin whispered back.

“Seriously?!”

“ _Ssssshhhhh!”_ Merlin hissed desperately but it was too late – Arthur was yanking open the door of the room he’d been in and striding into the corridor, looking left and right trying to locate the noise.

Gwen clapped her hands over her mouth but it was too late – Merlin could see she was about to giggle.

“No,” he moaned, clamping his hands over the top of hers in an effort to keep it back, but in the end, it was Merlin’s own outburst that gave them away.

“Hah!” Arthur crowed triumphantly pulling the tapestry back. Merlin released Gwen and she burst into laughter.

“Arthur?” a voice came from the left, “what’s going on?”

It was Morgana, wearing a purple dress and a smirk.

 “Morgana! What are you doing here?” Arthur asked.

“Looking for Gwen,” she replied, “what are you all doing behind that tapestry?”

“Er....”

“Gwen and I were playing hide and seek,” Merlin cut in to save Arthur’s pride, “and Arthur was just coming to tell us off.”

Morgana frowned. “Honestly Arthur, I know it’s raining but you don’t have to be such a grouch about everything!”

“We pay them to work Morgana,” Arthur replied.

Her face grew stony. “Well maybe _you_ should do the work of a servant for one day and see how long _you_ last without slacking off!”

“Hey!” Gwen objected. Truthfully she was the only one who hadn’t been slacking off.

“Or,” Merlin put in helpfully, “he could just join us and play hide and seek too.”

Arthur glared daggers at him.

Merlin looked back innocently.

“Sounds like a lovely idea Merlin,” Morgana said, “why don’t you be the seeker Arthur?”

“Or you could Morgana,” Merlin said, “I’m sure you’d be better at it.”

“Yeah Morgana,” Arthur smirked, “Show me how it’s done.”

Morgana glared and closed her eyes and started counting.

At once Merlin, Gwen and Arthur dashed out of the alcove and ran pell mell down the corridor, turning left and running across the giant stained glass window on the left hand side until they got into the corridor at the other end.

Gwen ran into the first room she saw. Merlin made to follow her but Arthur hissed “we can’t go in there, Guinevere’s in there!”

“So? Morgana can’t home in on her just because she’s her servant,” Merlin argued. “How’s she going to know she’s in there? Besides I want to hide with her, she’s more fun than you.”

Arthur glared at him but the sound of Morgana’s footsteps echoed down the hall so Arthur grabbed his wrist and dove with him into the first room down from Gwen’s.

Merlin made to dive under the bed but Arthur hissed “she’ll see you there!” and grabbed him and dragged him into a cupboard.

Arthur dove in beside him and pulled the doors shut, panting.

“Great,” Merlin whispered, “now we’re cramped in here.”

“Oh shut up Merlin,” Arthur said.

They pressed their eyes to the crack of the cupboard door.

“Do you think she will look in this room?” Merlin whispered as soft as he could.

“Ssshhh,” Arthur whispered back.

Merlin’s cheek tickled annoyingly at the sensation of Arthur’s breath on it. He turned his head to tell Arthur to move back and let him look through the crack when he suddenly became aware of how close their faces were.

Arthur saw him from the corner of his eye and turned to him inquisitively, when Merlin heard him intake sharply.

Merlin licked his lips nervously, aware of how close to Arthur’s mouth that put his tongue.

Arthur leaned slowly forward...

Bang! The cupboard doors were wrenched open so quickly they bounced back from the edges of it, and Merlin and Arthur toppled out onto the floor.

“You’re crap at this game,” Morgana said, looking down at them smugly.

***

So it was that Merlin passed an enjoyable few weeks, despite the damp and cold of the dungeons at night in rainy weather, until the arrival of Sophia.

Everything changed from the moment she stepped into the castle.

Ever since the hide and seek game, Merlin had fancied that maybe sometimes, perhaps out of boredom, Arthur flirted with him. Certainly he was politer to him than usual. Merlin didn’t think he fancied him of course, that would almost be as ridiculous a notion as the idea of Merlin fancying Arthur – you didn’t have to fancy someone to flirt with them after all, it was just something fun to do.

It was fun to let his fingers linger over his back as he dressed him sometimes, or offer him a wicked grin and a cheeky comment as he poured his water at lunch.

But with the arrival of Sophia, Merlin was brought swiftly back to reality.

Arthur was smitten with her from the moment they met. He skived off on training to be with her twice, leaving Merlin to take the blame and completely unconcerned that Merlin ended up in the stocks because of it. He ignored Merlin completely while she was around and tuned out whatever he was saying until Sophia was mentioned. Merlin felt himself strangely tempted to piss in his water jug.

Merlin was almost pleased to discover she was a Sidhe, though he could not say why.

In the end however, she and her father took Arthur to the lake of Avalon, and attempted to sacrifice him in exchange for immortality.

Merlin felt no remorse as he blasted them into oblivion.

“I’m sorry about how she treated you,” Arthur said, after he had woken up from his rescue from the lake and Merlin and Gaius had explained that Merlin had knocked him out to stop him eloping, “While she was here.”

“That’s alright,” Merlin said, stopping himself at the last minute from reassuring him with “ _you were enchanted.”_

“It won’t happen again,” Arthur said.

“Of course sire.”

But Merlin was moody and Arthur embarrassed and confused, and so, before Merlin knew it, they’d entered into an unspoken agreement.

They no longer flirted after that.

***

Merlin remained stubbornly grateful over the next few weeks that things had returned to normal between himself and Arthur.

They fell into their usual routine of teasing, arguing and the occasional conversation, until the druid boy came to Camelot.

Merlin walked into Arthur’s room a few hours after they had successfully smuggled him out (Merlin having convinced Arthur to wait until the crack of dawn to attempt a breakout, pointing out the guards were likely to be least alert then, and the druid boy having convinced Merlin to disregard the dragon’s warnings).

Arthur was sitting at the table, head resting on his steepled hands, staring unseeingly out into empty space.

“Arthur?” Merlin tried. Arthur didn’t respond.

“Arthur?” he said, walking over to him and brushing his shoulder.

Arthur jumped at the contact and offered Merlin a weak smile as Merlin put a plate of food down in front of him.

“Thank you Merlin,” he said.

“Are you alright?” Merlin asked.

“I just....” Arthur started and then stopped. “Never mind.”

“No go on,” Merlin said, pulling out a chair next to Arthur. “Tell me.”

Arthur turned to him. “You’re a servant Merlin it’s improper to sit at a table with me,” he said.

“Oh when have we ever given a rat’s arse about proprietary,” Merlin said, and Arthur snorted.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he pressed.

“I just...” Arthur sighed heavily. “Have you ever....has your mother ever....disappointed you?”

Merlin saw where this was going immediately.

“No,” Merlin said slowly, “but I left Ealdor before I was old enough for that to happen.”

“Right,” Arthur said unconvinced.

“Arthur, everyone has that moment where they look at their parents and suddenly realise they’re just people,” he said. “Your father is.....a flawed man, yes, but he loves you, he always tries his best by you. That’s the important thing.”

“My father would have killed a child,” Arthur said.

“He thought he was doing the right thing,” Merlin said, hating himself for saying it.

“That doesn’t make it right,” Arthur replied.

“No,” Merlin agreed, “it means he makes mistakes.”

Arthur turned to look at him, and Merlin gazed steadily back.

“I just remember,” Arthur said, “growing up all my life, all I ever wanted to do was be like him. To make him proud. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done to please him. And now it’s....all I ever seem to see lately are the things I would change.”

“You’re a different man to him,” Merlin said, “that doesn’t make him a bad person necessarily it just means you’ll be a different king. A better one,” he finished with conviction.

Arthur turned in surprise at the surety in Merlin’s voice.

“You really believe that?” he asked.

“I do,” Merlin replied steadily, holding his gaze, “I always have.”

Arthur looked at him in disbelief and gratitude for a few moments, and Merlin seemed to feel that same pull toward Arthur’s face that he had felt in the cupboard. But then Arthur was looking away and it was gone.

“Thank you Merlin,” he said gruffly.

“No problem sire,” Merlin said, getting up.

***

If Merlin had to be honest with himself, despite the curse, and the dungeons, he was happier in Camelot than he could remember being in Ealdor for a long time.

Every day of serving Arthur was a swirling whirlwind of happiness and Merlin never thought to question it until the day he went to steal Gwen from Morgana’s service and ask her to sneak into her house while her father was busy at the forge and take a sword.

“Will this do?” she asked, unclothing a sword and holding it out for him to take.

“It’s perfect,” Merlin said, thinking of the black knight Arthur was going to fight with it. “Nothing could withstand this.”

Gwen watched him as he admired the sword, and softly smiled.

“You’re in love with him,” she said.

“What? With the black knight?” he asked confused.

“No silly! With Arthur!”

“What?!” he yelped, dropping the sword.

Gwen laughed at him.

“Gwen,” Merlin insisted after he had stooped to pick it up. “I swear to you, right here and now, I have no feelings for Arthur beyond tolerance and irritation.”

“Whatever you say,” she said. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. I know you’re proud of him, even though you complain about him _constantly.”_

“I’m just admiring what a good job I do on his chainmail,” Merlin protested. “Of course I look proud.”

Gwen laughed again.

“Fine Merlin I won’t bring it up anymore,” she promised.

***

But though Gwen kept to her promise, Merlin couldn’t get her words out of his head. Sometimes he would notice, over the next few weeks, that sometimes he _did_ wake up especially happy at the thought of seeing Arthur, and he would wonder.

That wasn’t love was it?

He couldn’t be in love with him.

 _No,_ Merlin would think as Arthur threw smelly socks at him, or drooled unattractively on his pillow, or shouted at him for no good reason, _definitely not. I could do better._

Nevertheless, Gwen’s accusation continued to haunt him, at least until the day his mother arrived, bruised and beaten, in Camelot.

Merlin watched as his mother dropped to her knees and begged Uther to help the people of Ealdor in their plight against the bandit Kanen.

But Uther refused.

Merlin didn’t know what he use he could possibly be to his former village, but he knew his mother was in danger, and he had a duty to try and protect her as best he could.

So it was that he went to find Arthur on a parapet and say goodbye.

“You’re coming back?” Arthur asked.

“Well she’s my mother,” Merlin said by way of answer.

“I understand,” Arthur said. “Well Merlin, you’ve been terrible. I mean it, the worst servant in the history of Camelot.”

Merlin laughed.

“Thank you sire,” he said.

But as he left he felt a wrenching sensation in his chest and wondered if he hadn’t just left a piece of his heart permanently behind.

Gwen and Morgana threw a wrench into his plans when they decided they were coming with him. Though he appreciated their solidarity, it was nonetheless an inconvenience to him to sneak into the armoury and steal two of the tents the knights sometimes used on patrols so that he had somewhere to hide from them at night.

“There you go,” he said, unfurling them and setting them up as soon as it grew dusk.

“One for you two and one for me and my mother.”

“Thank you Merlin!” Morgana said, “But you didn’t have to go to all this trouble. How did you convince Arthur to lend them to you?”

Merlin stuttered. He hadn’t thought of that.

“Er...”

“Merlin,” Gwen said admonishingly, the look in her eyes telling him she knew exactly how he had acquired them, “you shouldn’t have.”

“I wouldn’t normally!” he said, not wanting her to think him a thief, “it’s just that, you know, you two are ladies.”

For some reason this made them smile at him in a fond, rather patronising way.

“Well thank you Merlin,” Morgana said, “we appreciate it.”

He heard them giggling as he turned into his tent for the night.

***

When Merlin opened his eyes it was to feel the tell-tale contented singing of his magic that indicated Arthur was close.

Confused, he opened the tent flap to find him sitting on a log by the fire.

“Arthur!” he cried, “What are you doing here?”

“I decided I couldn’t leave the safety of an entire village in your inept hands Merlin,” Arthur said, “so I decided to come and help.”

“How did you know where we were?”

“Well the tents were rather a giveaway.”

He glared at Merlin, and Merlin flushed.

“Er....yeah....I....”

“I took them,” Morgana said, stepping out between the trees with a bundle of wood in her arms. “I didn’t want Gwen and me to get cold.”

Arthur rolled his eyes like he knew perfectly well she was lying but he said no more on the subject.

Merlin’s mind meanwhile was racing. Now that Arthur was accompanying them Merlin once more had access to his magic, which meant he could help his village. But Ealdor was tiny with nowhere to hide to perform secret spells, and Merlin could hardly stand beside Arthur in an open field and hope he didn’t notice him doing magic.

Feeling guilty, Merlin put the matter out of his mind and decided to wait and see what happened when he got there.

They arrived in Ealdor a day later to find Kanen and his men attacking. Arthur dismounted and joined the fray immediately, scaring most of them off, while Merlin took advantage of his obedient magic to take out a bandit that ambushed him in a doorway.

“Merlin!” he heard a gasp, and looked over to see Will standing there. “Your cur-“

“Sshh!” Merlin said quickly, looking around to see if anyone was watching. He hugged Will in greeting and dragged him a little ways down the path.

“It’s not broken, but I can use my magic someti-“

“Merlin! Gather the villagers I need to talk to them,” Arthur called.

“In a minute!” Merlin called back. He turned to Will again. “Under special circum-“

“Now Merlin, there isn’t much time,” Arthur called.

“Guess I’ll explain later,” Merlin said, smiling wryly at Will.

As soon as the villagers were gathered round, Arthur began a rousing speech about men like Kanen and fighting back.

To Merlin’s dismay however, Will appeared to take an instant dislike to him.  Merlin stood and watched awkwardly as Will heckled him about his actions making everything worse for the village and Arthur appeared to lose some morale.

“If you wanna fight, then go home and risk the lives of your own people, not ours!” Will finished, storming off.

“Will!” Merlin called, chasing after him.

“Why are you being like this?” Merlin asked as soon as they were in his house.

“Why are you defending him??” Will demanded.

“Look, when I first met Arthur I was just like you, I thought he was pompous and arrogant.”

“Well nothing’s changed there then,” Will muttered sarcastically.

“But,” Merlin continued, “In time I learned to respect him for what he does, who he is. Arthur can be arrogant and thick sometimes, but he’s kind, he cares about his people, he’s honourable and noble.”

Will narrowed his eyes.

“Looks like he’s certainly made an impression on you,” he said.

_You’re in love with him_

_No I’m not,_ Merlin thought firmly.

“Look,” Merlin said, “I’ve just worked for him for awhile now and I’ve seen that he’s different to other nobles. He’s not like the men your father fought for.”

“Yeah you say that now Merlin, but when he fighting starts who do you think he’s going to send out to die?”

“Not the villagers,” Merlin said, “Himself if anything.”

Will shook his head in disbelief and stalked around Merlin to leave the cottage.

“Get your head out of his arse Merlin,” he snapped before slamming the door closed behind him.

It was a painfully awkward afternoon. Arthur spent it rallying the villagers and making a note of every item in the village that could be used as a potential weapon, and matching them up to people for size and skill.

Will sat glaring at him from the opposite side of the village.

Merlin hovered around awkwardly, unsure of what to do. On one hand, he wanted to support Arthur, and being away from him was painful to his magic, but on the other, he needed to sleep in Will’s cottage tonight in order to keep his curse and manacles hidden and couldn’t risk making him angry.

Eventually his mother took pity on him, and suggested to Arthur that someone collect as much firewood as could be gathered in an afternoon, as the woods would soon not be safe to venture out into, and Merlin quickly volunteered for the task.

He returned at dusk, depositing the firewood behind his mother’s house.

“Dinner Merlin,” Arthur said.

He, his mother, Gwen and Morgana were seated around the table eating some of his mother’s gruel.

“Oh,” Merlin hedged, looking through the house to the darkening sky framed by the doorway, “I, uh, I’m eating with Will.”

Arthur frowned. “There’s plenty for everyone,” he said.

Merlin noticed he hadn’t touched his food. He probably wanted someone to foist it off onto.

“Yeah, but Will’s already cooked, he’ll probably get annoyed if I don’t eat it,” he said with a sheepish laugh.

“Suit yourself,” Arthur ssaid.

Merlin forced back a laugh as he attempted to spoon some of it off onto Gwen’s plate but she turned around at the last moment and he had to pretend he’d simply been taking a really circuitous route to his mouth.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Merlin called over the conversation between Arthur, Morgana and his mother.

“Aren’t you sleeping with us?” Arthur asked, looking up in immediate suspicion.

“Oh, er, no, there’s not enough room in the house. I’m staying with Will.”

“There’s more than enough room in the house,” Arthur argued.

“Arthur I grew up in this house. I think I would know.”

Arthur scrutinised him.

“Alright,” Arthur said, returning to Morgana after a long moment. “Well, see you tomorrow then.”

Merlin breathed a long sigh of relief as soon as he was outside.

***

“Are they the manacles?” Will asked, as Merlin pulled out his box.

“Yep,” Merlin said, pulling them out and putting them on.

“They’re kind of pretty,” Will said.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Want some flowers to go with them?”

“Come on Merlin now you sound like Arthur,” Will said and both boys immediately stiffened. “So, what do the manacles do?” he asked, changing the topic.

“They bind my magic,” Merlin said, and explained everything Gaius had told him about his curse and how it worked.

“So why can you do little bits of magic every now and again now?” Will asked.

Merlin hesitated.

“It....it works when I’m around Arthur,” he said.

Will’s eyebrows rose into his hair.

“It works when you’re around Arthur?” he repeated flatly.

“Yeah it....it stop hurting, and does what I want it to,” Merlin clarified unnecessarily.

Will looked at him in disbelief, and for some reason, Merlin blushed.

“Why?” Will asked.

Merlin opened his mouth, but changed his mind halfway. He didn’t think Will would appreciate “because he’s my destiny.”

“Dunno,” he said finally, “it just does.”

“So now that you can use your magic again, are you going to use it against Kanen?” Will asked.

Merlin’s guts roiled with anxiety.

“I can’t,” he said quietly, “everyone will see.”

“ _What!?_ ” Will cried. “Merlin, you have a chance to save this village! If you used your magic no one would have to get hurt.”

“I can’t! If I’m caught –“

“What, don’t think lover boy would be keen on a sorcerer then?” Will interrupted flatly.

Merlin could think of nothing to say but: “he’s not my lover.”

Will snorted.

“I’m going to sleep,” he said, throwing himself down on the floor, yanking a blanket over him, and blowing out the candle.

***

Will kept up a relentless stream of pressure on Merlin to use his magic over the next few days. Arthur was trying to teach the villagers basic self defence skills and growing more and more despondent with their lack of progress, while Gwen and Morgana tried increasingly to pressure him into letting the women fight.

And Merlin found himself more and more torn with every passing hour.

Eventually the evening of their last night before Kanen attacked dawned. Merlin found Arthur resting on a bench, moodily poking at the ground with a stick.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Arthur replied, clearly distracted.

Merlin decided to cut right to the heart of the issue.

“William’s father,” he explained “died fighting for King Cenred. So he doesn’t trust any nobles.”

“Do you think the villagers listened to him?” Arthur asked.

Merlin laughed.

“No,” he said, “he’s always been a trouble maker, they’re used to ignoring him.”

“But what if he’s right, what if I am leading them to their deaths??” Arthur demanded.

Merlin reassured him that he wasn’t, that they would fight, and they would win.

“You really believe that?” Arthur asked.

Merlin’s heart swelled.

“Of course,” he said, “they have you to guide them.”

Arthur snorted, and resumed fiddling with the stick.

“I mean it,” Merlin said, “It makes all the difference.”

Arthur gave him a look that said plainly that he didn’t believe him, but he didn’t say anything further.

 _You dollophead,_ Merlin thought, _how can you not see it?_

Here Arthur was, all the way from Camelot. A distant prince who by rights should have no interest in their little village, run away in secret because his father wouldn’t allow him to come, but he wanted to anyway, just as a favour for his measly servant.

A man who slept on the floor and mingled with commoners without complaint, a man who valued their lives enough to give up his time and risk his own reputation in a very important position somewhere far away for a few little peasants in a kingdom that wasn’t even his.

Of course his being there made a difference.

They would follow him.

They would die for him.

Everyone would.

Arthur was too special.

“Just trust me,” Merlin said instead, “It’s important. I – I mean _they -_ appreciate it.”

Arthur looked at him.

“Well that’s good at least,” he said.

He stretched.

“It’s getting late I might have some supper,” he said standing up.

“Better not eat too early Gwen’s probably still full from your lunch,” Merlin said with a small smile.

Arthur blushed. “Actually I’ll have you know I ate all my lunch today.”

“Gwen tell you to shove it did she?” Merlin asked.

Arthur’s red face was all the answer he needed.

“No,” he said stubbornly, “I just thought it was rude not to eat everything on my place when food is so scarce around here.”

Merlin pretended to scrutinise him for a moment and then broke into a grin.

“Nah, that’s too conscientious for you. That screams Gwen all over.”

“Will you stop it with Gwen!?” Arthur asked, storming off.

Merlin laughed at the redness on the back of his neck all the way into the house.

***

Merlin made his excuses and went into Will’s cottage.

Nancy ducked her head inside to say Arthur was going to make a rallying speech at Hunith’s before the fight tomorrow, but Will made an excuse about not going and Merlin decided to simply let everyone think he was trying to talk Will into fighting tomorrow.

“I wouldn’t have gone anyway even if I didn’t have to babysit you,” Will said as soon as Nancy had left. “Arthur is going to get everyone killed.”

“Then fight with us,” Merlin said, “Help us.”

“Like you’re helping everybody?” Will asked.

“You know that’s different,” Merlin said.

“How?” Will asked stubbornly. “You’re not in Camelot Arthur has no jurisdiction over you while you’re here, he can’t kill or arrest you for sorcery.”

“He can refuse to take me back!”

“So you having access to your magic is more important than the lives of your friends and family?”

“It’s about more than that!” Merlin shouted, losing control now. “It’s my destiny! I have to protect him!”

“WHY?!”

“Because I love him!”

There was a ringing silence.

Merlin stood frozen all over with shock, unable to believe what he’d just admitted.

“You,” Will said furiously, moving around the room and snatching up his things into a bag, “Are _unbelieveable._ You’d fall for a man who hates people like you?!”

“It isn’t like – he doesn’t -,”

But Will only shook his head at him and moved toward the door.

“Will wait!”

The door closed with a heavy snap, leaving Merlin shackled alone in the emptied and abandoned cottage.

***

The morning of the fight dawned bright and cold.

Arthur helped Merlin into his chainmail and vambrances with a small smile and some encouraging words but Merlin’s throat was too dry around him now to do anything but nod.

_You’re in love with him_

_Because I love him!_

_I love you_

“It’s alright to be nervous Merlin,” Arthur said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Merlin could do nothing but attempt a smile.

And then it was time.

The battle commenced before Merlin could even really absorb that it was happening, but he did his best with what little practise with a blade he had.

Until Will returned.

“Will!” he cried in joy, as Will leapt off a roof to tackle a man about to mace Merlin and club him to death. “I didn’t think you were coming!”

“Neither did I,” Will grinned. He was wearing his father’s old armour. Merlin smiled as they fought side by side.

His happiness didn’t last long. Everywhere he looked, the battle was getting away from them.

“There’s too many of them!” Will cried.

Villagers had died. People he’d grown up with. Will might be next. Will who wanted nothing more than for Merlin to use his magic to save them. Will who’d come back even though Merlin had refused, because he was in love with a giant prat.

“Not for me,” he decided.

Taking a few steps backward, Merlin moved slowly, blindly feeling for Arthur with his magic until he felt it croon.

He stretched a hand out and created a giant windstorm that defeated the bandits.

Except Kanen.

As though in a bad dream, Merlin watched as Arthur demanded to know which of them was responsible for the magic and Kanen lined up to shoot Arthur and got Will instead.

On his deathbed, Will took credit for Merlin’s magic, and apologised to him for his behaviour about Arthur.

“He’s a great man Merlin,” he said. “You’ll be a servant to a great king.”

Merlin nodded, and stroked his hair, tears running down his face.

“Maybe something more one day,” Will joked.

Merlin laughed. “I doubt it,” he said.

“Yeah maybe,” Will said, “Merlin, I’m scared.”

“Don’t be I’m right here.”

Will choked.

“Merlin-“

But he was gone.

***

The weeks following Will’s death were pure torture to Merlin. In between the pain of grief for Will, Merlin was now hyper-aware of his relationship with Arthur.

Every tease, every smile, every shared look or secret in-joke Merlin couldn’t help but analyse and re-analyse over and over until he was no longer even sure the prince liked him and was certain he’d embarrassed himself irreparably.

Did Arthur love him back? Could that ever happen?

But every time Merlin’s mind drifted down this path, common sense would rear its ugly head inside him to turn him back.

_Princes cannot get involved with servants._

_How will you hide your curse and your sorcery if anything does happen?_

_He doesn’t even know who you really are_ , _and_ _if he did he’d hate you._

_Arthur hates sorcerers._

He missed Will more than ever in these moments, despite the fact he hadn’t spoken to him for a year by the time he died; Will would have smacked Merlin upside the head and told him to stop mooning over an arrogant, useless prince if he’d been there to hear his thoughts.

Then he’d have taken him to the tavern and they’d have drunk so much absolutely everyone looked like an attractive alternative to Arthur.

Nervous that Arthur might somehow discover his feelings and unsure what his reaction would be, Merlin tried his best to keep his distance.

He began by addressing Arthur by his proper title at all times, moving on to keeping his own opinions to himself unless asked for them and finally to trying not to rise to Arthur’s bait if he thought he was goading Merlin deliberately to have fun with him.

Arthur however was having none of it.

He said nothing during the first few days of Merlin’s attempt to be more professional and maintain a more appropriate barrier between them, but after a week he asked bluntly: “Merlin, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Merlin responded, attempting to be surprised. “Nothing’s going on.”

“You’ve been acting strangely ever since we got back from Ealdor.”

“Um,” Merlin said quietly, “I just....I really miss Will that’s all.”

Merlin surprised himself with the honesty of his statement.

Arthur looked at him pityingly.

“Take a day off,” he said, coming over and putting a hand on his shoulder. Merlin wished he wouldn’t; his face and his shoulder burned and he had to look away.

Arthur looked a little hurt but carried on anyway.

“You haven’t stopped since we got back, but if you need some time Merlin, you need only ask. I understand.”

Merlin nodded.

“If it’s alright with you sire, I might have a day off tomorrow,” he said.

“Of course,” Arthur replied.

***

Missing Will, irrationally missing Arthur and aching for friendship, Merlin did the only thing he could do in this situation.

He turned up to Gwen’s house to beg her to ask Morgana for a day off too.

Hours later, Merlin lay curled up against the foot of Gwen’s bed, head resting on her shoulder, as he confessed to her everything about realising his feelings for Arthur.

“It’s so stupid,” he said, “He doesn’t even return my feelings.”

“You don’t know that Merlin,” she said, stroking his hair.

“Even if he did,” he sighed, “there’s nothing I can do about it. Princes can’t be involved with servants.”

Gwen sighed.

“Oh Merlin,” she said, reaching an arm around him and hugging him closer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s my fault,” Merlin said, “I have to get over him. Just have to keep things professional and not get into any more tight situations with him.”

 _He can never find out who I really am,_ he reminded himself.

And so naturally it was on his first day back that Arthur organised a hunting trip, shot a unicorn and unleashed a curse on Camelot.

Of course, Arthur wanted only Merlin’s help in dealing with the sorcerer Anhora, who had appeared to Arthur while he was on patrol one night.

 Merlin helped Arthur as best he could, offering advice and commiserating with him about the people of Camelot.

They spent so much time together that Merlin quite forgot his earlier vow to move on from his feelings for Arthur, and lost himself in the familiar banter and closeness they shared.

That changed when Arthur asked Merlin to wait up with him for Anhora one night.

“Oh...” Merlin hesitated, “I can’t, I have to...”

“Merlin this more _important_ than Gaius! I have to catch him and I need someone with me to do it, someone I can trust!”

Merlin’s heart melted at Arthur’s admission that he trusted him, but still, he could not yield.

“I’m sorry Arthur...I...”

“Is this about where you go at night?” Arthur snapped suddenly.

Merlin’s blood ran cold.

“What?” he asked.

“Where you go at night. I’m not a fool Merlin. You do something at night, and it’s not related to Gaius. I noticed it first when Gwen got arrested and it was even more obvious in Ealdor. You and Will were hiding something.”

Arthur’s eyes suddenly widened in realisation. “That’s why you’ve been acting funny lately isn’t it? I thought it was just Will but it’s something else, something related to what goes on at night...”

 “No!” Merlin said, fear gripping his heart. “How can you say that sire?”

Arthur looked a little taken aback by what he had said.

“I’m sorry Merlin,” he said sincerely. “I didn’t mean to imply your grief was not genuine. The stress of this plague on Camelot, it made me....carried away. I should not have given in to suspicion. I’m sorry.”

But when Merlin could not attend the feast given in celebration of Arthur’s lifting the curse on Camelot, despite Arthur explicitly talking up Merlin’s role in the adventure so that he had an excuse to invite him too, Merlin knew he was now skating on the very thin ice of Arthur’s suspicion, and he was about to fall into the water below.

“Where were you?” Arthur asked seriously over breakfast the next morning.

“I was helping Gaius,” Merlin replied, fear choking his voice and making it unconvincing.

Arthur’s face grew dark and he glared at Merlin.

“I thought we were friends,” he said quietly.

Merlin’s heart ripped in two.

“We are,” he said desperately, tears filling his eyes.

“Then tell me,” Arthur said, “where you go at night.”

“I don’t go anywhere,” Merlin said.

Arthur looked at him in utter disappointment.

“I don’t -” he said softly, eyes filling with tears. “Please Arthur. Please.”

Arthur held his gaze for a long time, before nodding.

“You’re dismissed,” he said quietly.

Merlin gathered his breakfast dishes and left, heart in agony.

***

Arthur gave up asking Merlin about it, and superficially, conversation returned to normal. They bantered, they talked, they argued and Arthur barked orders at Merlin and made his heart flutter and his face blush.

With one major change.

Arthur was a prize hunter, and was skilled at the art of tracking prey, keeping himself hidden almost right up to the moment where he was upon them.

But Arthur was a beacon for Merlin’s cursed magic, and as such, Merlin could always feel when he was around, even when he couldn’t see him.

Arthur was following him.

Every evening, Merlin would leave Arthur’s chambers, and Arthur would wait until Merlin was almost out of sight, and follow him down to Gaius’ chambers.

He would lie in wait outside the door every night, hidden in the shadows, and Merlin would crouch peering through the keyhole, the box containing his manacles clutched in his hand, waiting for an opportune moment to use his magic to create a diversion, and sneak past him down to the dungeons.

Until Gwen’s father died.

Arthur’s secret night time prowling through the castle meant that he saw Morgana on some night time wanderings of her own, and following her, discovered her plan to work with Tauren to kill Uther in revenge.

Merlin and Gwen listened in sorrow outside the door as Arthur confronted Morgana in her chambers the next day. He accused her of treason and disloyalty while she screamed at him about the evils of Uther he ignored and accused him of being just like him.

Listening to Morgana’s accusations, Merlin knew she would never back down, and prayed for Arthur to be the bigger man. Almost as though he had heard him, Arthur’s temper calmed and he listened to her, even offering her comfort, and finally she admitted he was a better man than his father, and she didn’t hate Uther, not really, she didn’t want to kill him.

Gwen opened the door to find Morgana sobbing openly onto Arthur’s shoulder.

But Morgana’s antics paled in comparison to the most important thing of course; Gwen’s father had died.

Merlin couldn’t but admire her stoicism, her strength, her willingness to carry on and her refusal to hold a grudge against Uther for the death of her father. And so, unable to stop himself in the face of her loss, he found himself offering her a place to stay when he realised she had nowhere to go.

For the first few days, Gwen locked herself up in his old room, so nobody had to see her cry herself to sleep. Sneaking out to go the dungeon once he had collected the manacles was therefore easy.

But Gwen was not one to wallow in grief and soon she began sitting up with Gaius longer and longer before turning in to bed, and Merlin had to invent excuses about where he was going, and sneak back in earlier in the morning than usual to pretend he’d slept there all night.

It was perhaps increasing distraction with hiding his curse from Gwen that made him forget he was also hiding his curse from Arthur.

 And Arthur was far more vigilant.

“Are you sure you need to fetch more water at this time Merlin? Surely it can wait till tomorrow,” Gwen said.

“Er....” Merlin said looking at Gaius.

“No I’m afraid not,” Gaius said. “I really must brew up these potions tonight. I’m sorry Gwen, you’ll be eating with me again.”

“Alright,” Gwen said, a little suspiciously.

Merlin gave her a bright smile, and, when she wasn’t looking, opened the box and slipped the manacles into his pocket. He made to put the key in too, but Gwen looked up at him so he smiled and curled it into his fist.

Walking through the corridors down toward the kitchen, Merlin felt the familiar wavering of his magic between friendly and furious that meant Arthur was following at a varying distance behind.

Passing through a passage hidden by a tapestry on autopilot, Merlin followed it through to the end and jumped out into the servant’s passage near the laundry below.

Closing his eyes, he waited for his magic to turn against him once more.

It didn’t happen.

Eyes flying open, Merlin looked around. He couldn’t see anything.

But he could feel it. Arthur was still following him!

How?? He made sure to use a different path every night so Arthur couldn’t become familiar with them and leave knights to guard them.

On edge, Merlin took off down the passage, taking as many twists and turns as he could, trying to shake Arthur off.

Nothing.

Panicking when he saw the door at the end that he knew opened onto the large corridor leading to the dungeons, Merlin broke into a run.

He slammed through the door and sprinted down the corridor....

...only to be grabbed by the wrist by Arthur as he burst through the opening a few paces down the corridor of the servant’s passage that ran parallel to Merlin’s.

“You forgot Merlin,” Arthur said, spinning him around and pinning him to the wall. “You used this route a few nights ago. Some of the other servants saw you.”

Merlin looked at the window behind Arthur. It was almost sunset.

“So you’ve been asking servants to track me is that it?” Merlin asked, trying to inject fury into his voice to deflect from the fear. “What, so you know where to go if I’m going the same way twice? Well I hate to break it to you Arthur, but that’s bound to happen. There are only so many ways to the kitchen or armoury.”

 “Where do you go at night?” Arthur asked calmly, ignoring him.

“I just told you!” Merlin shouted, desperately shoving against him. With every passing minute, the sun was sinking lower.

“Tell me!” Arthur shouted. “Tell me where you go!”

“Nowhere, I don’t go anywhere!”

“Merlin!” Arthur actually shook his wrist. “Why can’t you tell me, what are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything!“

“Then tell me!”

“I _can’t_!”

Merlin looked behind Arthur again and panicked – it was almost completely dark.

“ARTHUR LET ME GO!!” he screamed, and Arthur, surprised, took a step back.

Panic swallowed Merlin completely as he ran through the dark corridors. He knew Arthur was probably following him but he no longer cared. One hot flush flooded through him, then another, as he sprinted down the stairs to the dungeon and burst into his usual cell, letting the doors behind him close shut with a clang that probably woke half the castle.

Merlin ignored it, swear dripping down his face and onto his palms making the manacles difficult to rest steady against his body while he tried to fit his wrists into them.

He groaned as the third and final hot flush passed through him, temporarily blurring his vision, but he kept his focus, and finally, the manacles were sealed over his shaking wrists.

He sighed heavily in relief as the icy cold passed through his body.

Trembling, he rested against the wall, wondering if he’d been lucky enough to shake Arthur off on the way down, when he looked down into his palm.

The key wasn’t there.

The key, he’d been holding the key! He’d been gripping it! Where was it! How could he get out of the manacles now?

And then he remembered.

Arthur had grabbed his wrist. He’d shaken it. The key must’ve fallen out. Arthur had it.

Merlin leaned forward and dry heaved until the anxiety clenching his stomach settled. Then he wept his total defeat.

It was over. Even if Arthur hadn’t followed him, he would need to go to him to ask for the key, lest he remain shackled for the rest of his life.

“Looking for this?” A voice cut through Merlin’s echoing sobs.

He looked up.

It was Arthur of course.

And he was looking at Merlin as though he worse than the scum beneath his shoe.

“You actually out-ran me you know Merlin,” Arthur said, in a strange, hard tone of voice, “But the thing about finding a key is that they’re no good for anything but locking things up. And I can’t think of anywhere else to do that but the dungeons.”

“Arthur...” Merlin begged.

“Is this where you come every night?” Arthur said voice stony.

Merlin shivered, though whether from the cold of the manacles or the ice in Arthur’s voice he couldn’t say.

He nodded.

“A man who locks and shackles himself up every night,” Arthur continued in the same hard, cold tone. He cast the light of his torch higher to shine them over Merlin’s manacles.

“Magical,” he said, looking at the runes. “So you have to lock yourself up with magical chains. Why?”

“To...to stop myself. So I can stay...so I don’t change,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur glared hard at him.  

“What are you then, a werewolf? No, they only transform by the full moon. You’re in here every night,” he glared hard at Merlin, “something worse then.”

Merlin shuddered as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks, but he did not deny it.

“And you came to Camelot and endangered my people,” Arthur breathed, venom in his voice.

“I had to,” Merlin said, voice small.

“And all this time, you led me on. I actually....” suddenly Arthur kicked the doors of the cell with a furious clang. Merlin flinched.

Arthur stopped, breathing hard, and then his eyes widened. “The beast that killed the griffin,” he said. “That was you. That was how you got your injuries.”

Merlin nodded.

“You _mangled_ it!”

Arthur drew back. “What _are_ you?”

“Arthur,” Merlin begged, “it’s not as bad as all that, please I can explain...”

But Arthur threw the key onto the floor of the cell in disgust.

“There’s no need to come to work tomorrow,” he said. “I won’t be requiring your services any longer.”

“Arthur....”

But Arthur grabbed the torch, turned on his heel and left, footsteps echoing up the dungeon stairs, plunging Merlin into darkness.

***

Merlin made his way up to Gaius’ chambers feeling numb all over, even after he’d taken the manacles off.

As soon as Gaius took one look at Merlin’s shattered face he shooed Gwen out and turned to him with a face full of concern.

“What happened?” he asked.

“He knows,” Merlin croaked. “Arthur followed me the dungeon and he saw me and now he knows.”

All of a sudden, the numbness left him and Merlin burst into tears.

“Come here my boy,” Gaius said gently, wrapping him a hug.

Merlin spent the morning explaining to Gaius what had happened and staring out the window wrapped in a blanket drinking tea, completely in shock.

Eventually Gaius decided that it wasn’t healthy for Merlin to stew on what happened all day, so he sent him outside for some exercise.

Merlin walked through the courtyard and the first thing he saw was knights on horseback. Gripped by fear, he ran all the way back to Gaius’ workshop.

“I know its paranoid,” Merlin said, “but now that I know Arthur knows, everywhere I look, I see a knight, and I imagine that he told them and now they all know, and they’re disgusted too. I’m not even sure if it’s irrational, I just...just feel like they’re all judging me.”

Gaius however did not respond with sympathy, or even advice. Instead he put down the book he was holding with a look of shock on his face and cried: “Judging you. Maybe they are. Merlin that’s it!!”

“ _What?!”_

But Gaius appeared to have no time for Merlin’s feelings. Instead he shot up out of his seat faster than Merlin would have believed possible for a man of his age and raced to the rickety old ladder and began climbing.

“Gaius are you sure you’re alright on that ladder? I don’t have my magic right now I can’t help you if you fall.”

Gaius didn’t respond so Merlin settled for holding the ladder to steady it and worrying that Gaius apparently agreed that everybody knew.

Several minutes later, Gaius was down the ladder and seated at the desk by the window, flipping through the book. Merlin watched him perplexed until Gaius apparently found what he was looking for and impatiently gestured for Merlin to come over.

“I told you that the person who cast this curse on you would have to have power close to the gods themselves,” Gaius said, as soon as Merlin was kneeling next to him. “I didn’t consider it might _be_ the gods themselves. Merlin, have you ever seen an object like this?”

Gaius twisted the book around and to Merlin’s surprise, he saw his old iron coin looking back at him, given to him by the gypsy all those years ago.

“Yes!” he said. “I have it in my room right now I can show it to you if you like?”

“Please,” Gaius said so Merlin raced up to his room and rustled around in the junk under his bed until he had found the coin.

He presented it to Gaius who held it under his magnifying glass and compared the runes around the edges with those on the picture in the book.

“Is it the same?” Merlin asked.

“Merlin,” Gaius said, putting the coin down. “This is very important. Did you find this or did someone give it to you?”

“Someone gave it to me,” Merlin answered, throat going dry with excitement and anxiety. “A gypsy passing through my village just before...just before the first night of my curse. Gaius is it cursed? Is that what’s doing it to me?”

“Yes and no,” Gaius responded. “The coin itself is not cursed, but it is a message, a symbol to let you know you have been cursed and by whom. I doubt that gypsy was really a gypsy at all. The purpose of their party was probably to give this to you.”

“But why would anyone want to curse me before I even came to Camelot? No one even knew about me then except for Mum and Will!”

“I am not sure. But somehow Merlin, you drew the attention of the Old Religion itself, and it has judged you unsoundly. This coin is a message from The Disir. The Disir are a group of sorcerers whose only purpose is to be a direct conduit to the gods of the Old Religion, to speak to them and do their bidding. Very rarely do they even have any involvement in the mortal realm, but sometimes, the Old Religion judges a few key threads in the fabric of the world and the Disir carry their judgement out. These coins are handed out to the person in question, a sign they have received the judgement of the Old Religion. I am not sure why Merlin, but the Old Religion appears to have judged you and judged you unfit. I would say the curse is their punishment.”

“But what _for?!_ ” Merlin cried anguished. “I hadn’t done anything, I was barely sixteen when I got that coin!”

“I am not sure,” Gaius said. “But I know where you can find them to ask.”

“What,” Merlin said, completely thrown. “Just, trot up to the Disir and say ‘hey, why’d you curse me?’”

“Essentially,” Gaius said. “They are not violent in and of themselves; you won’t be in any danger. People used to ask them about their judgements all the time. Sometimes they even granted second chances.”

“So....you think I should find these Disir, and ask them what I’ve done and if I can fix it?”

“What other option do we have?” Gaius asked, “You want to be cured don’t you?”

“Right,” Merlin said miserably, thinking about Arthur. “Right.”

***

The cave was dark, damp and oppressive. The air was heavy, with magic or something else Merlin didn’t know – his magic had slipped beyond his control again on the journey over.

Merlin followed the path of the cave, left, right then left again, until finally, he came upon three hooded figures, standing in the formation of a triangle.

They did not speak and Merlin could not see their faces, but he didn’t need to be told that these people demanded to be treated with respect.

He approached them slowly and crouched to one knee, head bowed.

“Emrys,” the middle figure croaked suddenly, making him jump though he did not break his kneel.

“Speak,” the left hand figure said.

“Tell us why you have come,” the right one finished.

Merlin trembled, but tried to keep his voice steady.

“I received many years ago this token,” he said, pulling it out, “is it a token of your judgement O Disir?”

“It is,” they responded in unison.

“And the enchantment that curses my magic against me,” he continued without looking up, “is this spell yours?”

“It is your punishment,” one said.

“You were judged,” another chimed.

“You did not pass.”

“May I ask, Great Disir, what was the crime for which I received judgement?”

There was a pause.

Then:

“Failure,” they answered as one.

“Sorry?” he asked.

“Failure in your destiny.”

“How do you know about my destiny?” he asked, quite forgetting himself and looking up.

“Your destiny has been foretold for many hundreds of lives Emrys,” the woman on the left answered, “it was said you would be instrumental in restoring the Old Religion to the land.”

“But we have looked into the future and time and again we see failure,” the one on the right said, “nothing but failure.”

“The Once and Future King will have a moment, one moment, to restore magic to the world or doom it forever,” the middle figure said.

“Over and over we have seen you guide him to the wrong decision.”

“What?!” Merlin cried, “Why?”

“Do you not already know the reason to that?” the right figure asked slyly.

“I would never tell Arthur not bring magic back! I couldn’t, I wouldn’t – not unless his life was in danger.”

“Already your heart misleads you,” the figure on the left intoned. “It will undermine your destiny time and again.”

“You and Arthur Pendragon cannot be trusted to fulfil your destiny,” another barked. “Your magic was turned against you, as you will turn your back on magic in the future. You must be eliminated so that another can take up your mantle.”

“Who?” he asked.

“The woman,” they replied, “the Seer.”

Merlin had no idea who they were talking about, but he not interested in wasting time trying to find out so he disregarded the information and moved on.

“But you don’t need to kill me to eliminate me from that moment anymore,” he said. “Arthur hates me.”

“Your connection was demonstrated when the witch Nimueh poisoned you,” they said, “Your very soul flew to Arthur in his hour of need.  It is the reason your body could not transform that night. Arthur may no longer feel for you but you have demonstrated that you will never abandon him.”

Hearing the weight of his feelings for Arthur echoed so coldly back to him the Disir, and their lack of clear statement about Arthur’s feelings for him, Merlin felt his heart shatter.

Unable to hold back, tears spilled down his face and he gulped and gasped for several moments.

Finally he collected himself. He needed to focus on breaking the curse.

“Is there no way then I can try and change my future, right my destiny, so that I need no longer be eliminated?”

The Disir considered him for a long moment.

“The decision you made,” they said finally. “Was not one isolated mistake, nor even the result of many hundreds of different mistakes. It was the same mistake made over and over in many different guises and forms.”

Merlin waited.

“Fix this mistake,” they said, “and it may be possible to restore your destiny.”

“What is the mistake?” he asked.

“If you do not know there is no hope for you,” they chanted. “You must fix it on your own.”

“But –“

“We have given you another chance Emrys,” the middle figure said somewhat threateningly, “Begone.”

Defeated, Merlin left.

***

Merlin thought about the words of The Disir all the way back to Camelot, though he didn’t really have to. The solution presented itself within the first few minutes of reflection, and the rest of the time was spent trying to convince himself there must be some other way.

But deep down, he knew there wasn’t.

He didn’t know what mysterious mistake he had made over and over in the future, but he knew where he had gone wrong now, and it wasn’t a stretch to imagine it was the same one.

But would Arthur even want to talk to him? Would it even make a difference? Hadn’t their relationship already been so badly damaged by Arthur’s discovery of the terrible beast Merlin really was that there was no way to fix it anymore?

Their destiny was broken.

What was he even doing here?

As he rounded the bend in the road he was greeted by the distant gleaming turrets of Camelot, and let his eyes roam over them until he imagined he could see Arthur’s window.

He hovered for a moment, uncertain of whether or not to go in and try or give up now, when he decided that if things didn’t work out, he should come and say goodbye to Gwen and Gaius at least.

Walking wearily through the courtyard, the shout of his name made him stop.

Gwen was running up to him.

“Merlin!” she cried, “Where have you been?? You just ran off, even Gaius couldn’t say where you were!”

“I’ve just been...places,” Merlin said, too exhausted to come up with an excuse.

Gwen made a face. “Merlin, I know you’ve had some kind of fight with Arthur.”

“Fight doesn’t even cover it,” Merlin sighed. Then he looked at her. “Wait, how do you know?”

“Arthur.”

“So he’s been telling everyone,” he sighed. He supposed he could look forward to stonings now. Then he thought about what the Disir had told him about his future and wondered if he might not deserve it.

“No,” she said, “it’s the way he’s been acting.”

“And how’s that?” he asked.

“Miserable,” she replied. “He’s been looking for you everywhere.”

 _Probably to try and kill me,_ Merlin thought bitterly. Nevertheless, a tiny flower of hope blossomed in his chest.

“Merlin,” Gwen said, “I know we decided you should try and move on from your feelings for Arthur...”

Merlin hung his head, wishing she knew just how far beyond those worries he’d moved.

“But I saw how you two were and I saw something else too. He returned them. You two love each other, and I think if nothing else, you should remain friends. You work so well together. Whatever you two fought about that drove you out, he’s clearly been thinking about nothing else, and I think he regrets it. You have to talk to him Merlin.”

Merlin gulped, thinking of what he had come to Camelot to do.

“Alright,” he whispered, “alright I will. Thank you Gwen.”

She gave him a hug.

“No problem Merlin,” she said.

Nervously, he dragged himself up the stairs to Gaius’ chambers. Halfway up, the tempest of his magic abruptly calmed, alerting him to the presence of Arthur inside.

He wondered if he would ever feel that comforting calm again after today.

“I know very well that you know where he is Gaius!!!” He heard Arthur roar as he neared the door. “Why don’t you just tell me, I already know what he is, I saw him lock up himself in a dungeon for gods’ sake!!! Why don’t either one of you ever just –“

Merlin opened the door, cutting off Arthur’s rant.

“I’ll tell you,” he said wearily, “I’ll tell you everything.”

Arthur’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Merlin –“ Gaius started.

“ _Everything_ Gaius,” Merlin interjected.

He looked at Arthur, who was still looking shocked.

“Up in your chambers it’s more private.”

Arthur closed his mouth and nodded.

They walked up to Arthur’s chambers in total silence, Merlin slightly in front. He had decided what he was going to do and he was not going to wait any longer.

Entering the room, he took a seat at the table. Arthur pulled out the opposite.

They stared at each other for a long minute.

“How’d you notice I was gone?” Merlin asked eventually.

Arthur snorted.

“I was angry at you Merlin –“

“You fired me,” Merlin muttered.

“- but that doesn’t give you the right to just up and leave Camelot without telling anyone where you are or if they’ll ever see you again without my permission.”

_He’s clearly been thinking about something else and I think he really regrets it..._

Merlin cut Gwen’s voice off in his head before it go any further. Even if he had, he would still hate him after everything he was about to tell him.

Merlin took a deep breath.

“You know I have to lock myself up in the dungeons each night so I can....stay human,” he said. “But I haven’t told what I become or why. I need to tell you the full story.”

“I know,” Arthur said, and he looked down and fiddled with carving symbols with his knife onto the table. “I’ve been thinking about what I saw and....you lock yourself up in magical chains in a dungeon every night. You take...precautions at least. And you’re right, I don’t know what you become,” he took a deep breath and looked at him. “I’m prepared to listen to what you have to say.”

Merlin nodded, and opened his mouth, but suddenly he couldn’t speak.

His throat was clogged with sobs each eagerly trying to claw their way out – he couldn’t let them, not now, but nor could he drag any breath past them.

Tears blurred his vision as he started choking.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked, and that was it, he was undone completely.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, and now that he had started, he just couldn’t stop. “I’m s-s-sorry, I’m so – so – sorry....”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, sounding both concerned and slightly alarmed, but he didn’t interrupt him further.

“I’m –“ he stopped, a took several deep, gulping breaths, wiping his eyes furiously on the back of his hand.

“I’m a s-sorcerer,” he finally bit out, lifting his head to look Arthur in the eye. “I have magic.”

Arthur’s eyes widened.

“And it – it’s been cursed against me. To try and,” he drew another deep, hiccough-y breath, “kill me. By a group of people who saw my future and decided I was going to ruin everything so I had to be eliminated now. That’s why I lock myself up at night. The manacles are the only thing that stop me transforming into a violent beast at night. Normally I just attack myself, try and kill myself, but sometimes, if people try and stop me I’m....I’m a danger to others too.”

He glanced at Arthur again, whose face was frozen.

 “I didn’t want to endanger anyone by coming to Camelot,” Merlin begged, “I came to Camelot to seek a cure, I believed I could find one here. I couldn’t go on, I would have died or taken someone else out with me.”

Arthur’s face was still frozen. Slowly, it began to melt into something resembling anger.

“But you are a sorcerer,” Arthur argued. “You chose to take up magic in the first place, magic later cursed against you.”

“I was born with the magic,” Merlin said in a small voice, tears streaming down his face. “I was just born this way Arthur. I couldn’t help it. I swear.”

Arthur turned his head away. Merlin watched him in silence for several minutes before he finally looked back.

“You said the people that did this to you did it because they saw something you did in the future and wanted to eliminate you before it happened.”

“Yes,” Merlin whispered.

“In the future, what did you do?” Arthur asked coldly.

“I failed in my destiny,” Merlin replied. “It...is my destiny to serve you Arthur. To help you. To protect you. To make you king, of all Albion. To always be by your side.And I want to do that. I ‘ve been doing it ever since I arrived here. That’s why I had to risk my life by unleashing the beast on the griffin, it was the only to save you, nothing the knights were doing was working. I rescued you from Sophia using magic, and I used magic to save your life when we first met, when I was made your manservant...my magic it....during the day it hurts me as part of my curse and I can’t use it but it works for you Arthur. Only for you,” he took a deep breath, “it is my destiny to protect you Arthur. I don’t want to do anything else.”

He looked up.

Arthur’s face was dawning in recognition, as missing pieces of the puzzle of the last year fell into place.

“But sometime in the future,” Merlin went on, “I’m going to be offered a choice, and I’m going to think I’m making the right decision for you, but it will be the wrong one. And it will ruin everything, for a lot of people. Including you.”

“And these people,” Arthur said, “they cursed you for that?”

Merlin nodded.

Arthur paused for another few moments, before asking another question.

“Do you know what the choice is?”

“It’s not necessarily about that choice I think. The choice happened, at least as I understand it, because I made a mistake. I could still make it and screw everything up some other way even if I know about the choice now.”

Arthur studied him.

“So what are you doing? Do you know how to fix your mistake?”

Merlin nodded again.

“And?”

“I think I’m fixing it now,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur let out a long breath.

“I’m going to need some time to think about all of this,” he said eventually.

Merlin bit his lip and nodded, tears spilling down his cheeks again.

Arthur stood up out of the chair and began walking over to the door but halfway there, he suddenly spun around.

Pain clear in his voice he asked, “And if you’d never been cursed, you wouldn’t have told me? Wouldn’t have told me anything about you, or who you really are, or your....destiny, any of it?”

“I suppose I was afraid I would lose you,” Merlin answered softly, “I’m sorry.”

Arthur turned around again and snorted.

“Wouldn’t have wanted to lose all the hard work you put into your _destiny,_ ” he muttered sarcastically.

“No,” Merlin whispered, without looking at him. “I wouldn’t have wanted to lose you because I’m in love with you.”

There was a pause in Arthur’s steps.

“Arthur...” Merlin whispered.

But Arthur continued walking without looking back at him. Merlin heard the door close with a cold snap and Arthur was gone.

***

There had been no discussion between them since Merlin’s confession of his feelings the day before.

Merlin lay awake all night alternating between wondering if he had simply made things worse for the magical people of Albion by telling Arthur the truth. Surely he only had more reason to hate Merlin, surely there could be no destiny between them now?

He looked over at the iron coin on his beside table and sighed. Whatever The Disir said about a connection between them, it clearly wasn’t strong enough to survive Merlin’s revelation that he was a lying sorcerer who had come to a crowded city in the full knowledge he was cursed.

He remembered the moment of his confession, Arthur’s retreating footsteps, his refusal to give Merlin even as much as a look. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think about other things until he fell into a fitful, uneasy sleep.  

Arthur went out hunting the next day. Merlin wasn’t sure if it was because he needed a break from everything or because he knew Merlin wouldn’t follow him on a hunting trip.

He tried to distract himself by helping Gwen with her chores for Morgana, but he was more of a hindrance than a help, and after knocking over the bucket of water they were using the scrub the floor for the second time she told him she could manage fine on her own and he returned to Gaius’ chambers.

He spent the rest of the day pacing moodily around the room, trying to resist the urge to check for Arthur’s return every few minutes, when a clatter of hooves sounded and he ran unashamedly to the window.

What he saw made his heart jump to his throat.

Uther was carrying a blood stained Arthur in his arms until finally, unable to hold out any longer, he collapsed and Arthur was carried up the steps by a group of knights.

“Gaius!” he called out, voice strangled with panic. “Gaius, come quick!!”

Merlin flitted uselessly about the room, biting his nails until the doors burst open and the knights carrying Arthur appeared, depositing Arthur on the bench.

The familiar soothing rush of his magic recognising Arthur’s presence could not have been more painful to Merlin in that moment.

“What happened?” Gaius asked.

The knights explained how the party was attacked by a giant beast that Gaius identified as the Questing Beast.

“What does that mean?” Merlin asked, as soon as the knights left to fetch Uther.

“The bite of the Questing Beast is fatal,” Gaius explained. “One bite and the person will die. There is no cure.”

Merlin’s blood ran cold.

He ran to his room and pulled out the magic book, racing back into the main chamber and slamming it onto the bench.

“Merlin!” Gaius admonished. “The king is on his way!!”

“I have to Gaius!” he cried, “I can _not_ lose him, not now, not after I just told him everything....”

_I never got a response._

Gaius looked at him pityingly.

“Be quick then,” he said.

Merlin used magic to race through the book as fast as he could, picking out three likely looking spells and hurling all the strength of his magic at them.

None of them worked.

Merlin felt his throat close up in panic.

“No!!” he cried.

He’d ruined it. He’d made the wrong decision. He’d thought he had to be honest with Arthur, but that had only driven him out hunting where he’d been bitten. He’d made a mistake _again_ and now the people of Albion would pay, and sooner than before.

He collapsed into a chair just as the king entered the room.

“Please Gaius,” Merlin said, “there must be something I can do.”

“I’m sorry my boy,” Gaius said. “There is nothing.”

Merlin stood up abruptly and walked quickly over to the door.

“Where are you going?” Gaius called out to him, but Merlin didn’t answer.

If Gaius couldn’t tell him what to do he was going to visit someone who could.

***

The Isle of the Blessed was an old, decrepit place that almost looked to be falling apart before Merlin’s very eyes.

Nonetheless, Merlin could feel the powerful magic running through every rock and blade of grass. He found his way to the centre of the place, where the magic was most powerful, and waited.

“Hello Merlin,” a voice came from behind him and he turned around to see Nimueh standing there.

“You,” he said in surprise.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked with a smirk on her face.

“Nimueh,” he replied. “You can’t be the one the dragon meant.”

“And why is that?”

“You tried to kill me,” he said.

“Before I knew your importance,” she said.

“And Arthur,” he said with more heat.

Nimueh picked up on his tone and smirked.

“Has something happened to dear Arthur?”

He swallowed.

“He’s dying. I have come to trade my life for his.”

Her grin widened.

“How brave you are Merlin. If only it were that simple.”

“Whatever I have to do I will do. I cannot fail again.”

“Again? Merlin I do not think you have failed yet,” Nimueh said with a raised eyebrow.

“Will you grant my wish?” he demanded, ignoring her.

She turned away and pulled a cup out of thin air.

“The cup of life. Blessed by centuries of powerful sorcery so that it contains the very secret of life itself. If Arthur drinks from water from the cup he will be saved.”

Merlin held out his hand for the cup and she conjured a storm to fill it, transferring the water into a stone vial and returning it to him.

“A bargain is struck,” she said. He made to walk away but she grabbed his arm. “I hope it pleases you.”

***

Merlin burst through the doors to the chambers and after some hesitation on Gaius’ part and vague, non-committal answers in response to his questions on Merlin’s, they entered Arthur’s chambers and gave him the water.

“What are you giving him physician?” It was Uther.

Gaius made up a story about an ancient remedy and Uther made to sit vigil by Arthur’s bedside.

Merlin’s heart sank. This was all a result of his mistakes, both present and future, and if, as it turned out, The Disir had had the right idea all along and his death was the only thing that could fix anything, he wanted to see the solution out right through to the end.

He wanted to die knowing Arthur was ok, even if Arthur probably didn’t want to see him.  

“I think I cannot allow that sire,” Gaius said, looking at Merlin. “I must stay and watch over Arthur myself and I cannot have too people around crowding the patient.”

“But –“

“It is for your own good sire,” Gaius interrupted, “You are too stressed as it is.”

Merlin waited with baited breath, but apparently not even Uther was immune to the eyebrow, because he relented.

Gaius waited till he had left the room.

“I’ll leave you alone,” he said, and Merlin nodded.

The water did not take long to take effect.

Merlin had finished wetting the wash cloth for the third time when he felt Arthur stir.

Dropping the cloth immediately, he reached out to touch Arthur’s forehead but pulled back at the last minute. Arthur probably wouldn’t welcome it.

Merlin watched with baited breath as Arthur’s eyes fluttered and finally opened, alighting on his face.

“Merlin,” he whispered.

Merlin’s face broke into a grin, and he blinked back tears.

“Hey,” he sniffed, “how are you?”

“I feel like hell,” Arthur said. “Last thing I remember is being bitten by that giant snake monster.”

“The Questing Beast,” Merlin supplied.

Arthur’s lips quirked upwards slightly.

“Thought it might have been you,” Arthur said, “mad beast running around Camelot. I thought ‘oh he would make a hunting trip his revenge’”

Merlin let out a surprised bark of laughter.

“Sorry, I only turn into a monstrous beast at night,” he joked. “And I’d never harm you." 

Arthur’s face softened with a fleeting glimpse of something like regret, or perhaps sorrow before he became more serious.

“Was it you who saved me?” he whispered. “Again? Using magic?”

Merlin nodded.

“How?” he asked. “I thought I was dead for sure.”

“Um,” Merlin said shakily, “just, bit of sorcery, you know. Magic.”

Arthur didn’t say anything for a long minute.

“I thought,” he said finally, “that you said that you made a mistake, in your future, and that your magic was cursed to try and kill you as punishment for it. And that that mistake was not being honest with me.”

Merlin nodded, throat tight.

“Are you being honest with me now?” Arthur asked.

Merlin shook his head unable to speak.

“So how did you save me?”

“I-“ Merlin’s voice trembled, “I went to the Isle of the Blessed and I traded my life for yours.”

Arthur’s eyes widened.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said, “that I dealt in such shady magic but I couldn’t –“

“Merlin,” Arthur said cutting him off, “that is completely unacceptable.”

“I know,” Merlin said, “I’m sorry, but there was no non-magical solution.”

“That’s not the issue,” Arthur said, propping himself up on his pillows. “The issue is that I don’t want you to die.”

Merlin looked up in surprise.

“Better me than you,” he said.

“No it’s not!” Arthur shouted and Merlin pulled back in shock.

“It’s not,” Arthur choked and Merlin looked away so he could wipe his eyes without embarrassment.

“I’m sorry I was so....unfair to you,” Arthur said after a minute, in a steadier voice.

“You weren’t,” Merlin said. “You were right. I endangered people by coming here and I shouldn’t have.”

“Yes you should have,” Arthur said quietly.

Merlin gazed at him and Arthur held it as he said steadily: “You were just coming for a cure so you didn’t kill yourself. Everyone has that right. And as for endangering other people, Merlin, you certainly took precautions. You locked yourself up in magical manacles in the dungeon every night. That can’t have been a picnic.”

Merlin decided not to mention the first few months that he had stayed Gaius’ storage room.

“And all because of something you didn’t even do. Just something you might do. And something....something you only did because you thought it was the right thing for me anyway.”

He looked at Merlin.

“Apparently.”

Merlin laughed. “Yeah,” he said, “it was.”

“And if you hadn’t come to Camelot,” Arthur said, so quietly Merlin had to lean closer to hear him, “then I would never have met you.”

“But I’m a sorcerer,” Merlin said, voice shaking, “I have magic.”

Arthur threw his head back on the pillows and sighed.

“I’ve thought about that a lot the last two days. Everything I could think of that was strange, any time it might have been your magic.”

Merlin nodded.

“Like in the market place when we first met,” Arthur said voice growing strong, “you cheated.”

Merlin barked out a laugh.

“You’d have taken my head off if I hadn’t,” he said.

Arthur gave a small smile. “Should’ve.”

Merlin drew in a sharp breath.

“And then I remembered,” Arthur went on softly, “a light.”

Merlin started.

“I remember how it felt,” Arthur went on, “friendly and warm. Like it was watching over me.”

He turned to Merlin. “It was you wasn’t it?”

Merlin nodded, eyes filled with tears.

“How?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I have a....I felt a...connection to you, and I followed it.”

Arthur reached out and brushed Merlin’s fringe gently out of his eyes.

“I love you too,” he whispered, and now his voice was shaky. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said, tears coming to his own eyes, “the trade is made, the spell can’t be undone. I have to.”

Arthur’s whole face crumpled in pain and Merlin pulled him close. He gripped the front of Merlin’s tunic and sobbed.

“I don’t regret it,” he whispered in Arthur’s ear, patting his hair, “because if I hadn’t you would have died and that would be worse. You’re going to be a great king Arthur. Albion needs you.”

“ _I_ need _you_ ,” Arthur said, voice muffled by Merlin’s shirt and Merlin had to laugh at the spoiled, petulant tone typical of him, even now.

“You’ll find someone else,” Merlin said, pulling back and wiping Arthur’s tears with his thumbs.

Arthur grabbed his wrist and moved his hand slowly to his mouth, kissing the dried tears of Merlin’s thumb, and then taking it slowly into his mouth.

“I don’t want anyone but you,” he whispered.

Merlin swallowed.

Arthur moved his hand slowly up from Merlin’s wrist, running his fingers up Merlin’s palm and then linking them through Merlin’s own.

“Stay with me tonight,” he said huskily.

“I have to lock myself up,” Merlin said, voice shaking.

“I don’t care about the risk,” Arthur said. “Please.”

Slowly, Merlin nodded.

“I have to – go get my manacles,” he stammered, getting up.

Arthur nodded.

Merlin tore through the castle as fast as his legs as ever carried him. He startled Gaius at his workbench but offered no explanation, simply grabbed the box his manacles lived in and, after a second’s hesitation, a jar of salve.

“Back,” he panted, running into the room and closing the door.

Arthur smirked at him from the bed.

“Honestly Merlin,” he said, “I know I’m attractive but there’s no need to run.”

Merlin blushed furiously and pointed angrily at him.

“I can turn around right now and –“

“No, no,” Arthur laughed, holding out his arms, “come here.”

Merlin shuffled nervously over to the bed at stopped by the side of it.

“Honestly Merlin,” Arthur rolled his eyes and leant up from the pillows and, linking his arms under Merlin’s shoulders, pulled him down with him onto the bed.

“Oof,” Arthur groaned in pain and Merlin landed heavily on the site of his former wound.

“Sorry,” Merlin said, scrambling up so his hands were either side of Arthur’s head and legs resting over Arthur’s.

“That’s alright,” Arthur whispered, reaching up to brush Merlin’s hair out of his eyes.

Merlin let him for a few moments, content to let his eyes roam over Arthur’s face, until Arthur leant up and captured his mouth in a soft kiss.

His lips hovered over Merlin’s for a few moments before Merlin exhaled deeply and brushed his top lip down over Arthur’s, moving down to the bottom and taking it into his mouth.

Arthur groaned and flicked his tongue lightly over Merlin’s mouth. Merlin opened for him and Arthur licked inside, his tongue curling around Merlin’s.

Merlin felt a hand brush lightly up his arm that continued all the way up to his neck, fluttering around his scarf until Arthur pulled it away.

Arthur broke away from Merlin’s mouth and pushed himself up on his elbows to suck hard on his neck.

“Arthur,” Merlin moaned, as one of Arthur’s arms snaked up his shift while he bit down on Merlin’s neck.

Arthur’s hand grabbed the bottom of the shift and lifted and Merlin, taking the hint, pulled back from Arthur and ripped it off.

Arthur sat propped up on one elbow for a moment, eyes raking up and down Merlin’s torso.

Merlin blushed. He’d always been too skinny, and since the curse his torso had become covered in scars, adding nothing to his aesthetic appeal.

But Arthur only reached a hand out to his waist and said softly, “mine.”

“Yours,” Merlin whispered, and Arthur pulled himself right up off the pillows to wrap his arms around Merlin and kiss him fiercely.

Merlin rocked slightly into Arthur on his knees until his groin brushed the hard outline of Arthur’s cock and he shuddered.

Arthur grinned wickedly at Merlin as he stopped kissing him and slowly dragged his hand down Merlin’s stomach.

He never broke eye contact as he reached into Merlin’s trousers and wrapped a hand around his cock, stripping him from the base to the tip and making him jerk.

Merlin wrapped both hands around Arthur’s neck and held on as Arthur’s hand moved down to fondle at his balls and back up again, paying special attention to the head.

“Time to get these trousers off I think,” Arthur grunted and Merlin groaned.

He sat back and shimmied out of his trousers as quickly as he could, but stopped in his tracks when he tried to pull them off and realised he’d left his boots on. Arthur laughed.

“Only you Merlin,” he said.

“Shut up,” Merlin said blushing, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed so he could undo his boots.

Arthur came up behind him and wrapped both arms around his chest, kissing softly up his neck and nibbling on his ear as he did so. One hand began once more to stray down his navel toward his cock.

“You’re,” Merlin panted, as he unbuckled one boot, “making this....very difficult...for me.”

“Good,” Arthur said, “makes it last longer.”

Merlin couldn’t hold back a moan.

Unable to wait any longer, he simply ripped the other boot of his foot as he hard as he could and threw it across the room, where it clipped the jar of salve he’d brought up earlier and made it wobble.

Merlin dived to rescue it but Arthur got there first.

“Salve Merlin?” he said, looking at it and raising an eyebrow.

Merlin blushed so red he was surprised he wasn’t glowing.

But Arthur didn’t laugh.

Instead he shifted over the bed and put it in Merlin’s hand, and closed his fingers on it.

“Use it on me,” he whispered.

“What?” Merlin asked, “but I thought...”

“I know,” Arthur said. He leaned his head forward until their foreheads were touching, and Merlin closed his eyes as Arthur reached up to brush his cheekbones with his thumbs.

“I want to be able to feel you after you’ve gone,” he whispered, and Merlin felt tears fall on his face.

He didn’t open his eyes, or say anything, to preserve Arthur’s privacy in his pain.

Instead he licked softly into Arthur’s mouth and Arthur opened for him.

Merlin leaned his weight forward, pressing Arthur back into the pillows, until Arthur lay flat on his back.

Merlin moved his mouth from Arthur’s and began sucking his neck, moving down over his collarbones and onto his chest.

Arthur shivered Merlin he sucked each nipple in turn. He peppered sucks and kisses down Arthur’s stomach, delighting in the taste of him, until he reached Arthur’s trousers.

He curled his fingers under them and pulled them down, offering Arthur a cheeky grin, and Arthur laughed.

He returned his attention to Arthur’s stomach until he had kissed his way to hairline of Arthur’s groin. Arthur shivered as Merlin stopped.

Merlin looked up, catching Arthur’s eye and not letting it go as he cupped Arthur’s balls with one hand and gripped his cock firmly with the other.

Arthur’s pupils were blown wide as Merlin lowered his head and sucked.

Arthur threw an arm over his eyes as Merlin licked around the head and sucked it into his mouth, letting it pop out before taking it in again, deeper this time. He used his hand to stroke the shaft as he slowly set up a rhythm, taking Arthur deeper and deeper each time until Arthur let out a strangled groan.

Making sure that Arthur was completely relaxed, Merlin reached for the salve and unscrewed the lid, coating two fingers liberally. Leaning up to brush a quick kiss over Arthur’s mouth, Merlin returned his attention to his cock, licking and sucking around his balls now, until Arthur’s legs fell open.

Merlin reached up with one finger and rubbed gently around Arthur’s hole, rubbing his cock with the other hand.

“Do it Merlin,” Arthur said suddenly, removing the arm from his eyes and looking down at him.

Merlin pushed in.

Arthur threw his head back on the pillows.

“Alright?” Merlin asked.

“Yes,” Arthur said, “keep going.”

Merlin rubbed around, seeking a particular spot until – _yes._ Arthur’s hip bucked involuntarily and he quickly stifled a moan.

Merlin rubbed gently at the area, watching Arthur’s pupils dilate wider and wider until he withdrew, and pushed in as slowly as he could with the second finger.

Watching Arthur’s face carefully to make sure there was no discomfort, Merlin returned to the same spot, circling and rubbing, until Arthur said softly, “more,” so Merlin spread his fingers apart.

Arthur hissed but did not appear in any discomfort so Merlin worked at scissoring him open for awhile until he once again removed the fingers and reached for the salve to coat up a third.

This time there was definitely some resistance as he pushed in, so Merlin took it slowly, listening as Arthur’s breathing slowed, and then sped up again.

This time he applied himself once more to Arthur’s cock, taking it as deep as he could go while twisting his fingers around inside of Arthur.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, in a strangled voice, “now.”

Merlin sat up on his knees between Arthur’s legs.

He hooked Arthur’s feet over his shoulders and lined himself up, pausing as he looked down at him.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Arthur laughed.

“You know me Merlin,” he said, “I’m always sure.”

Merlin pushed in.

He took it as slowly as he could, watching Arthur’s face as it screwed up at first, but then relaxed. He continued gently until he bottomed out, balls resting lightly on Arthur’s arse and rested trembling over him until he felt Arthur completely relax.

He closed his eyes, until a soft kiss from Arthur opened them.

“Move,” Arthur said, wriggling under him, so Merlin pulled out slowly, and then pressed back in.

He felt his stomach rub over Arthur’s cock as he pulled in and out again, taking it a little faster this time, and then a little faster again.

Arthur hissed.

“What is it?” Merlin asked stopping immediately.

“That spot,” Arthur said breathlessly. “Hit that spot again.”

Merlin moved slowly until Arthur hissed again.

“Yes....” he said.

Merlin thrust in, slowly picking up speed encouraged by Arthur’s moans.

He began to move harder, swallowing Arthur’s grunts and moans with a kiss.

“Merlin,” Arthur groaned, so Merlin leaned back onto his knees and began to pump in earnest, reaching one hand down to move over Arthur’s cock in time with him.

Eventually Arthur’s back arched and he came over his stomach with a shudder.

Unable to hold himself back now, Merlin grabbed Arthur’s hips and let go, thrusting hard into him until he came inside him, trembling and shaking.

Merlin sat like that for a few minutes, arms wrapped around Arthur’s legs until finally, with a kiss to Arthur’s knee, he slowly pulled out, and Arthur winced.

“Sorry,” Merlin said worriedly, “are you alright?”

“Merlin you idiot,” Arthur said, reaching up and pulling him down until Merlin was nestled in Arthur’s shoulder, and Arthur was pressing a kiss into his temple. “I’m fine.”

They lay there, each breathing heavily, until they fell into a light sleep, which Merlin was jolted roughly out of by a hot flush.

“Manacles,” he said, launching himself over Arthur and reaching for the box.

“Could you?” he asked, holding them out to Arthur.

Arthur put Merlin’s wrists gently into the heavy gold and closed them shut with a light snap.

Merlin shivered. Arthur raised a questioning eyebrow.

“It’s....they’re cold,” he said, trying to explain. “They make me feel cold all over.”

Arthur nodded.

“Better warm you up then,” he said, pulling Merlin down beside him. He manhandled Merlin shamelessly until he was pressed with his back into Arthur’s side and Arthur’s arms were wrapped around his chest underneath Merlin’s own, before flinging the covers over them both.

Merlin lay like that all night, cuddled and safe and warm, and pretended he couldn’t feel Arthur crying.

Even if he had royally screwed everything up, he was glad he had this at least.

***

Merlin awoke the next morning, comfortable and warm despite the manacles. He rolled over to see Arthur snoring with his mouth hanging open rather unattractively and laughed.

“Oi,” he said, pushing Arthur until he awoke with a grunt, “stop drooling on the pillow.”

“Merlin,” Arthur groaned sleepily, until he snapped awake with a jolt. “Merlin!!!!”

Merlin looked at him in puzzlement, until it hit him.

“You’re alive!!”

Arthur flung himself at him, the weight of him crushing Merlin back down into the bed, and sobbed shamelessly.

“You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive...”

“Mmmff,” Merlin said, voice muffled.

“You filthy dog!” he cried suddenly, pulling back (allowing Merlin to finally breathe). “This was all just a ploy to get into my pants!”

“Well you can have me this morning if it’ll make you feel any better,” Merlin answered with a cheeky grin.

“In that case I think I’ll leave the manacles on,” Arthur said wickedly, but just as he lowered himself over Merlin for a kiss there was a brief knock at the door and Gaius walked in unannounced.

Arthur tried to fling himself out of view so quickly he toppled off the side of the bed with a loud crash.

Merlin quickly pulled the covers right up to his chin and asked, face as hot as a poker, “Gaius?”

Gaius did not so much as blush and Merlin knew immediately that something must be very, very wrong.

“Merlin,” he said gravely, “come quickly.”

Arthur’s head popped over the side of the bed as soon as Gaius had left and fixed him with a worried look.

***

“Mother!” Merlin cried, as soon as he and Arthur had entered Gaius’ chambers.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked distressed.

“I don’t know,” Gaius answered.

“Can you fix it?”

“I’m trying.”

“Well do something!”

“Merlin!” Arthur interrupted. “Gaius is doing the best he can.”

“Who did you meet at the Isle of the Blessed?” Gaius asked.

“Nimueh,” Merlin replied.

“Nimeuh!” Gaius gasped, while Arthur looked between in puzzlement.

“It was as you said there would be a price but I traded my life not my mother’s.”

“So what are we going to do?” Arthur asked.

Merlin paced, but could only think of one solution.

“I must go back to the Isle,” he said, “and _make_ Nimueh accept my life as the payment for yours.”

“NO!” Arthur shouted vehemently, grabbing Merlin’s arm and spinning him around forcefully.

“No,” he said again, softer now. “I thought I lost you once Merlin I won’t go through that again.”

“I cannot let my mother die,” Merlin protested.

“And I cannot lose you!” Arthur shouted, shaking him. Realising what he had done, he apologised and stepped backward, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry Merlin,” he said, without looking at him, breathing slowly. “You can’t go.”

“So what do you suggest I do then?” Merlin demanded, “Just let her die?”

Arthur didn’t answer him.

Merlin walked out and slammed the door as hard as he could.

***

Merlin intended to speak to the dragon to demand why it had not warned him that his mother’s life might be on the line when halfway to the dungeon it occurred to him that Arthur wasn’t following him.

Gaius had probably told him Merlin needed time to himself to calm down, but Merlin knew it would not be long before Arthur came to look for him to make sure he couldn’t go to the Isle and sacrifice himself again.

Turning around, he raced as fast as he could to the stables, packing nothing – he didn’t intend to return.

Arthur’s face as he realised Merlin had run away to his death filled his mind. Merlin tried to put it out of his head but it was no use.

Hesitating, he did the only thing he could think to do.

Grabbing the horse, he walked it quickly through the courtyard and through the lower town, though it was not strictly on the way to the bridge over the moat.

“Gwen?!” he called, pounding as hard as he could on her door.

“Merlin!” she said in surprise when she opened it. “What’s –“

“Gwen,” he panted. “I came to say – I came to goodbye. You’ve been the best friend anyone could want – don’t ever change. You have the best heart and –“

He sped up, noticing three Camelot guards in the distance walking toward him.

“And – and tell Arthur I love him!” he blurted.

“Merlin!” she said shocked, but Merlin was already mounting his horse and galloping as fast as he could out of the city.

***

The sound of shouting guards and pursuing hooves haunted Merlin all along the road the White Moutains, though every time he turned around there was nothing there.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Arthur’s reaction when he found out Merlin had betrayed him and run to the Isle. Would he cry again? Would he blame himself?

Merlin’s stomach twisted in guilt so he pictured his mother’s agony every time Arthur’s face swum before his eyes to remind himself of why he was doing the right thing.

Soon however, the phantom clatter of hooves behind him began to seem more real. Over and over again, Merlin thought he heard the panting of a horse that was not his own in the trees behind him. Every time he twisted in the saddle to look however, there was nothing.

Spooked, Merlin spurred his horse faster and this time there was no mistaking it – a second set of hooves started up behind him.

Trying but failing to locate the source of the sound, Merlin pulled on his horse as hard and turned around, hoping the suddenness of the stop would mean the person following him continued on long enough for Merlin to see him – and then his blood ran cold.

His magic had stopped boiling angrily and started humming gently.

_Arthur._

Merlin immediately spurred the horse into a gallop. Racing as hard as he could through the trees, Merlin burst out into a field –

_\- And Arthur burst out ahead of him._

Merlin pulled back abruptly and the horse reared.

“TURN BACK!” Arthur roared.

“No!” Merlin screamed.

Arthur charged him for a split second, making Merlin’s horse shy.

“If you don’t turn back then I have no other option but to sacrifice myself in your stead,” Arthur said.

“You can’t!” Merlin shouted. “You were the one I did all this for in the first place!”

“Do you think I can watch you die Merlin?!”

“Do you think I will let that happen to you!?” Merlin retorted.

There was a tense silence.

Suddenly Arthur sighed, and dismounted from his horse.

“What are you doing?” Merlin asked in confusion.

Arthur walked over and held out a hand to him. Merlin didn’t move.

“I can’t let you go and you can’t let me go,” Arthur said. “So it seems to me the only option is to go together.”

Merlin sat stiff as a statue.

“I can’t live without you,” Arthur said, “We’re two sides of the same coin. Please Merlin. Together.”

Merlin stared at him before taking his hand and jumping out of the saddle.

“Together,” he said, gripping it. “Always.”

Arthur grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his forehead against his.

“Good,” he said softly. “Cause I’d hate to think you’d be one of those root and run types.”

Merlin laughed.

“As if you weren’t just using me,” he said.

“Using you for what Merlin, you’re terrible in the bedroom. Can’t even take your boots off,” Arthur quipped.

Merlin grinned.

“Come on,” Arthur said, climbing back into the saddle.

***

They approached the Isle of the Blessed in silence, Merlin smiling sheepishly at Arthur as he used magic to move the boat.

Merlin stopped as soon as the boat bumped the shore however.

“Arthur...” he began, but Arthur took his hand.

“Together,” he repeated, and Merlin nodded.

Hand in hand they climbed the steps to the same stone dais Merlin had waited beside last time, and took their place.

“Back again Merlin,” Nimueh said, once more appearing out of nowhere.

Merlin jutted his chin.

“You tricked me,” he said.

“I did no such thing,” she replied, “the Old Religion demands a life and a life is being taken.”

“You –“ Merlin started furiously, but Arthur cut him off.

 “Take my life,” Arthur said. “I am offering it to you. Before him.”

“No!” Merlin cried, as Nimueh clapped slowly and sarcastically, smile wide.

 “Oh this is perfect,” she said. “I see you wasted no time Merlin.”

Merlin blushed.

 “I cannot take your life,” she continued calmly to Arthur, “it is not your destiny to die at my hand Arthur Pendragon.”

“Yes,” Merlin said, hurriedly moving over to Nimueh, “if you can’t take his will you take mine?”

“Merlin!”

“It seems I will have to,” Nimueh said. “What a shame. We could have done great things together Merlin.”

She took his hand and it felt like the cold grip of death.

 _“Gemot thysses ancorlif,”_ she began chanting.

“No!!” Arthur cried.

“ _Beinnan behwearft,”_ she continued, ignoring him.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, unsheathing his sword.

Screaming, he charged at Nimueh, swinging it high.

Nimueh laughed.

“How like your father you are,” she said, “he tried to kill me in just the same way. I think I’ll teach you the same lesson.”

She threw out her hand to throw Arthur back.

Nothing happened.

“ _Hrycg!”_ she tried again.

Still nothing.

Grimly, Arthur stopped in front of her and lifted the sword once more.

“No!” she cried, but it was too late.

He plunged the sword through her heart.

Nimueh gasped, and swayed.

Blood bubbled out her mouth.

Shocked, Merlin ran to catch her as she fell.

She was dead before she hit the ground.

Arthur looked at her, breathing heavily.

Merlin looked up at him from the ground in shock.

“I’m sorry Merlin,” Arthur said.

“How can I save my mother now?!?” Merlin asked, anguished.

Arthur didn’t reply.

Merlin turned away from him in disgust. He could hardly believe how angry he was. He stared unseeing at Nimueh’s blood on his hands.

“Here,” Arthur said, noticing where his eyes were and hurrying over with a goblet. “Some water, to wash it off....”

Merlin looked at the goblet and cried out in shock. It was the cup of life. And it was filled with water.

“Arthur!” he said, “where did you get that??”

“It was sitting there, on the dais....”

Merlin looked at it incredulously and before his very eyes, the water in the goblet disappeared as though being drained away through an invisible hole in the bottom.

“What....?” Arthur asked, but Merlin gave an ecstatic shout.

“The cup of life!” he shouted, “she started the spell!”

“What?” Arthur asked.

“The spell to trade one life for another,” Merlin said, “she started it when she grabbed me. The cup was present during the last transaction too, I used water from it to save your life. But now the water in it is gone.”

“So...?”

“So the price has been paid! She started the spell of trade and you Arthur.....you must have finished it! You killed her, and her life was traded. For my mother’s.”

“Oh,” Arthur said rather stupidly.

“Ha!” Merlin cried, hugging him.

He made to move away but Arthur grabbed his wrist to stop him and pulled him in closer for a soft kiss.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he said.

“I’m glad you are too,” Merlin replied with an embarrassed smile.

They buried Nimueh near the dais. They wanted to collect stones to build a cairn, but the sun was high in the sky and Merlin hadn’t brought his manacles, so they settled for removing a piece of rock from the dais itself and carving “Nimueh, High Priestess of the Old Religion,” onto it.

“I don’t understand,” Arthur said, as they stood over her grave, “why her spell didn’t work on me.”

“I’m not sure,” Merlin answered, “maybe Gaius will know.”

They turned around and began to walk back to the boat.

Merlin’s hand reached for Arthur’s.

Arthur’s fingers clasped around his own and immediately he doubled over in pain.

“Arthur?!” Merlin cried, putting an arm under his shoulder to support him and reaching for his forehead. “Arthur what’s wrong?”

Arthur winced but did not answer.

“Arthur?!?”

“Hot,” he grunted, “Pain in my joints, muscle ache and....” suddenly he stumbled.

“Nausea,” he said, clutching his stomach.

Dread dripped through Merlin from the head down.

“We have to get you back to Camelot,” he muttered, worried.

Suddenly, Arthur stood up, perfectly healthy again.

“Arthur?”

“I’m fine,” Arthur reassured him, sounding slightly puzzled. “I feel fine. Must have just been a passing thing.”

Merlin applied the back of his hand to Arthur’s forehead, still concerned.

Arthur turned to him and fixed him a look that said he didn’t appreciate being made a fuss of like a swooning woman.

“I’m fine Merlin,” he said firmly.

They left the Isle and mounted their horses. They kept up a stream of cheerful banter, Merlin teasing Arthur with all the ways he was going to prove he was a better lover than him.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

“You’re not better than me at _anything_ Merlin,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” Merlin asked, feeling playful. “Why don’t you try and beat me then?” he kicked his horse into action and galloped as fast as he could before Arthur could spur his own.

He laughed as the horse ran, delighting in the lack of hoof-beats behind him that meant Arthur was lagging.

He turned around to tease Arthur about how slow he was when his heart stopped dead.

Arthur was slumped in the saddle, exactly where Merlin had left him, doubled over in what was clearly pain.

“Arthur?!” he cried, galloping back.

Arthur leaned over the side of his horse and vomited all over the ground.

“Arthur....”

As soon as he reached him however, Arthur looked up, colour once more returned to his face and eyes bright.

“I’m fine,” he said, “just felt ill again for a brief moment there but I’m fine now. Just a passing thing.”

“We need get back to Camelot,” Merlin said, worried.

They arrived in Camelot just as late afternoon was beginning to turn into a slow sunset.

Merlin dragged a protesting Arthur by the wrist up the stairs to Gaius’ chambers and pounded hard on the door.

Gaius opened the door with an ashen look on his face that cleared as soon as he saw both Merlin and Arthur standing together unharmed.

“Merlin! Your mother has recovered, the boils are all gone though I’ve given her a sleeping draught, she’s upstairs in your bed.”

“That’s great,” Merlin said. “Do you think you could take a look at Arthur? Something’s wrong with him.”

“I’m _fine_ Merlin, I don’t need –“

But Gaius was already manhandling him into a chair and lifting his eyelids and peering at his eyes.

“What are the symptoms?” he asked.

“None,” Arthur said firmly.

Merlin described them.

“Sounds like a flu of some kind,” Gaius said, “though I don’t know why it keeps coming and going like that. Merlin could you fetch me some water please? We’re rather low. Be quick about it though, dusk is starting.”

Merlin nodded and left. When he returned with a bucket it was to discover Arthur groaning in pain doubled over in front of a puddle of vomit on the floor.

“Arthur!” he cried, running over to him.

Arthur’s skin visibly gained colour as Merlin crouched beside him.

“Ok,” Arthur said, trembling slightly, “maybe I am ill.”

“Bed rest sire,” Gaius said firmly.

They took Arthur to his chambers where Merlin helped him undress and tucked him into bed.

They closed the door on him, Arthur’s moans starting up again the moment they stepped into the corridor.

“Will he be alright?” Merlin asked, fighting down distress.

“He should be fine,” Gaius said. “Merlin what happened?”         

Merlin explained everything that had happened at the Isle of the Blessed on the walk back to Gaius’ chambers, from Arthur being somehow immune to Nimueh’s spells, to his killing Nimueh and taking her life in place of Merlin’s mothers and finally the mysterious illness that struck him just before they left the Isle.

“Gaius, what is it? Is it something to do with Nimueh...”

“I don’t think so,” Gaius answered. “I think Arthur was immune to Nimueh’s magic because her magic helped create him in the first place. Therefore she could not harm him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll explain later, it’s a long story, one Arthur needs to hear as well,” Gaius said, “but I don’t think the illness is related to anything that happened on the Isle of the Blessed.”

“Well what is it then?”

“I don’t know,” Gaius said, “perhaps he really is simply ill. His symptoms are nothing unusual.”

“He can’t be. There’s no illness that comes and goes as suddenly as that, it’s like someone lighting and relighting a candle or something, or the way my magic -”

He stopped.

He’d been so concerned for Arthur and so wrapped up in his story to Gaius he hadn’t noticed it. But it was there.

Reaching down inside himself, he called on his magic. And it responded.

“Gaius,” he said worriedly.

“I know my boy, I’m already getting the manacles, don’t worry I’ve kept an eye on the time.”

His magic was calm. Happy. Obedient. Soothing.

And Arthur was on the other side of the castle.

“Gaius!” he shouted in fear. Gaius stopped in his tracks.

“What is it?” he asked.

“ _Leoht,”_ Merlin whispered, and a ball of light appeared in his hand.

“Merlin,” Gaius whispered. “You’re cured! How –“

“No,” Merlin said, “I’m not. We need to get back to Arthur, right now, bring the manacles!”

He raced out the door without even checking if Gaius was following him.

Running through the castle, he crashed into several servants lighting torches in the corridors – it was night.

“Sorry!” he panted, not stopped to help them up.

He sprinted through the castle and flung himself through the door to witness a sight that made his blood run cold.

Arthur’s arm was reaching under the bed, pulling out his sword and raising it, tip pointing straight at his throat.

“No!” Merlin launched himself at Arthur’s arm and pulled on it with all his might, hanging his entire body weight from it but it seemed to posses super human strength – it didn’t even bunch an inch.

Merlin whipped around to look for the manacles and – _there._

He concentrated on moving them with all his might and his magic raced them through the air, landing obediently in Merlin’s hands.

Merlin snapped one around the wrist heading straight for his throat and grabbed the immobile arm and yanked it up until both wrists were side by side, and closed the lock.

Arthur’s arms went slack.

Gasping, Merlin sat down right there on the floor.

“I think my curse passed to Arthur,” he said breathing heavily. “He doesn’t have magic so they had to curse his body against him. That must be why he’s been sick all day. But it came and went when I did....it mustn’t work around me just like mine didn’t work around him. And its night so the curse must be able to animate his body against him. He doesn’t have any magic to transform him into a beast instead.”

Gaius stared at him open mouthed.

“But why...”

“The Disir said I needed to prove I could fix my mistake, that I wouldn’t let lies come between me and helping Arthur restore magic,” Merlin said. “I told Arthur the truth. I took him with me to defeat Nimueh. That must shown I was willing to be honest about magic.

But they must still have doubts about Arthur bringing magic back to the land,” Merlin sighed heavily, “because he killed a High Priestess. So they transferred the curse.”

“What are you going to do?” Gaius asked.

Merlin paused for a moment, running over his options in his head. What could he do to prove to The Disir that Arthur would bring magic back?

When he could think of nothing, despair opened in him like a black well waiting for him to lose his head and fall in.

 _Keep it together Merlin,_ he fought against himself. _What would Arthur do?_

He knew the answer to that immediately.

_“Please Merlin,” Arthur said, holding out a hand, “Together.”_

_Merlin stared at him before taking his hand and jumping out of the saddle._

_“Together,” he said, gripping it. “Always.”_

He had played by The Disir’s rules and instead of breaking the curse, they had gone for Arthur. Well he wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I’m sick of being held ransom to the future,” Merlin decided suddenly, “I’ve let this curse go on for far too long. I’m not letting it happen to Arthur. Tomorrow, we go to the Disir, both of us together, and we _make_ them break it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin said determinedly. “But we will.”

***

Merlin woke from his position of sitting half slumped in his chair half on the bed to the feeling of someone petting his hair.

“Hey,” Arthur said gently.

“Hey,” Merlin replied, leaning up and kissing Arthur gently. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” Arthur replied, “not sick anymore.”

He paused.

“Why do I have your manacles on me?”

Merlin sighed.

“I think my curse has passed to you,” he said heavily.

“What?”

“I told you the people who cursed me decided I made a mistake and it led to a bad choice, a choice that ruined everything. I think the people who cursed me think I’m not going to make that choice anymore. But Arthur, that choice...it was telling you to do something you shouldn’t. And I think they think that you might still make that wrong decision on your own. So they’ve cursed you now instead.”

“But why? What am I going to do?” Arthur asked.

Merlin sighed.

“I think there’s someone we should go and see,” he said.

***

Arthur sighed heavily as he followed Merlin down the corridor to the dungeons.

“I’m not someone in the dungeons is going to be a reputable source Merlin,” he said.

“Trust me, I have issues with him myself,” Merlin said. “But he’s the one who told me about our destiny, and the good part of our future, so...”

Arthur nearly tripped down the stone steps. Merlin immediately pretended to do the same so Arthur had an excuse to take his hand to steady himself.

 “Ready?” he asked Arthur, before they stepped out into the cavern.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Honestly _Mer-_ lin,” he said, striding out confidently into the cavern.

He started and ran two steps backward when he saw the dragon sitting there.

“ _Merlin,_ ” he hissed. “I thought we were visiting a _person,_ you didn’t say anything about a _dragon.”_

The dragon rumbled with laughter.

“Well met Arthur Pendragon,” he said, “though this is a lot sooner than I anticipated.”

“And...” Arthur said shakily, looking up at it, “when was that supposed to be?”

“At the hour of your death,” the dragon replied.

“Oh well, that’s comforting,” Arthur said sarcastically. “I don’t suppose the few minutes before then involved any fiery roasting and chewing of my delicious innards?”

The dragon laughed again.

“You have nothing to fear from me King Arthur,” he said. “For I have seen your destiny and know that it is great.”

“What is it?” Arthur asked.

The dragon rumbled.

“Once yours and Merlin’s future was as clear and easy to read as words carved into a stone. Now it changes all the time. But one thing remains the same. Your destiny, if you _can_ achieve it, is to work with Merlin to unite the lands of Albion and restore magic to its rightful place in your realm.”

“Restore magic?” Arthur asked doubtfully.

“Yes,” the dragon repeated.

“And....if we fail in this destiny....”

“You must not,” the dragon said.

“Right,” Arthur said, breathing heavily, “right.”

He paused.

“So if someone were to make a mistake,” he said, with a small glance at Merlin, “perhaps tell me to make a wrong choice about magic for example. Would that....would that ruin _everything_ in our destiny? Would that be worth trying to prevent by killing that person and relying on someone else to take up the mantle?”

“You speak of Merlin’s curse,” the dragon said.

Arthur nodded.

“I have no knowledge of the curse so that I cannot say. But one thing I can tell you Arthur.”

It fixed him with a stern gaze.

“You and Merlin are two sides of the same coin. Never lose sight of that, and the rest will fall into place.”

Arthur screwed up his face.

“So what do we –“

But the dragon was already flying away.

“Well that was helpful,” Arthur said sarcastically.

“Hey, he was much more forthcoming with you then he’s ever been with me,” Merlin said. “I bet he likes you better.”

He looked to Arthur waiting for a jibe about how everyone liked Arthur better, but there was none.

Arthur stayed in thoughtful and moody silence all the way back up to the castle, until, passing the kitchens, he suddenly broke it.

“So you failed in your destiny by telling me not to restore magic when I had the chance,” Arthur said.

“To save your life,” Merlin said. “I think I thought it was a choice between that and bringing magic back....and we’ve already seen how I can’t allow anything to happen to you.”

Arthur gave a small smile.

“But now I think they’re unsure of what your response to me would be,” Merlin said nervously, “if I did tell you to restore magic.”

Arthur didn’t say anything.

Merlin fidgeted anxiously.

He believed Arthur loved him – he’d made that clear dozens of times already since recovering from the bite of the Questing Beast.

But what if he thought Merlin was just an _exception_ to magic, not the rule? What if he was willing to pardon Merlin for the crime of being a sorcerer because he loved him, but he wasn’t prepared to extend that pardon to others?

He looked at Arthur, face still deep in thought, and came to a decision.

 _No,_ he thought, _I have to trust him._

This was Arthur. His destiny. If he couldn’t put his faith in him, he couldn’t put his faith in anybody.

“I know where the Disir are,” he said, making his voice confident. “I don’t think we should waste any time. I think we should go to them and demand they lift the curse.”

Arthur turned to him.

“And why should they do that?” he asked curiously.

“Because,” Merlin said, taking a deep breath. “We’ll show them that you’re serious about your destiny. And if that doesn’t work then....I’ve got my magic. Gaius says before I got cursed I was probably the most powerful sorcerer alive. We’ll make them by force if we have to.”

Arthur stared at him.

“Gaius says you’re the most powerful sorcerer alive???”

Merlin shrugged.

“Shall we?” he asked, holding out a hand.

Arthur looked doubtful, but he took it, and Merlin sighed in relief.

“Together,” he said, “always.”

***

Arthur was silent, moody and thoughtful the entire trip to the cave of the Disir. Merlin thought a couple of times that his face looked wracked with doubts and once or twice he even looked behind them, as though toward Camelot.

Each time, anxiety would race through Merlin like a flood but he would remind himself that Arthur was the other side to his coin, and he just had to trust him.

Finally, they reached the cave.

“This is a sacred place,” Merlin told Arthur as soon as they had dismounted from their horses. “We can’t go in armed.”

Arthur looked at Merlin doubtfully, but he unbuckled his sword belt all the same.

Merlin removed his shoes for good measure, and following his lead, Arthur did too and they entered the cave barefoot and hand in hand, carefully avoiding all the hanging sacred symbols.

Finally, they rounded the last bend and came face to face with the three hooded figures of the Disir.

Arthur looked at Merlin.

“You have to bow to them,” Merlin whispered, “and be polite. If it all goes wrong we have my magic.”

Arthur approached them and crouched to one knee.

“Great Disir,” he began. “I have come to request you remove the curse you have placed upon me.”

“And why should we do that?” one intoned.

“You have killed a High Priestess,” another said.

“You will never restore magic to its rightful place.”

Arthur hesitated.

“I do not know what my future holds,” he said, “but I promise you, if you remove the curse, I will do my best to fulfil my destiny. I will unite the five kingdoms and see magic brought back to the land once I am king.”

“Why should we believe you Arthur Pendragon?” One of the Disir said.

“Son of the mighty Uther,” the other chimed in.

“Murderer of thousands,”

“He believed in magic himself once too.”

“But I won’t do it because I believe only in what magic can do in service to me,” Arthur protested.

“What do you believe?”

“I believe....” Arthur hesitated.

Merlin waited, but after several long minutes, he still hadn’t said anything.  

Merlin felt the Disir growing restless.

 _Come on Arthur!_ he thought.

But Arthur still did not have an answer.

  _Arthur!_

Still, Arthur stood chewing his lip.

Merlin’s heart sank.

“I believe,” Arthur said suddenly, “that this curse has shown me, that all people deserve a chance. My father says magic users are a threat because they possess a dangerous advantage over common people that no man could help but want to use to further his own ends. He says all sorcerers are evil because the actions of all the magic-users he has ever encountered in his life have been deliberately harmful to others. I certainly have never met a sorcerer that was not trying to harm myself or Camelot.”

“But,” he continued, “I believe I have not and there is no way I could ever personally meet every sorcerer in Albion. I believe therefore I cannot treat every individual sorcerer alike, based on my limited experience. Sorcerers should not be judged on the actions of the majority, but instead all people should be seen as the individuals they are, and given a chance to prove themselves.”

He looked at Merlin.

“It is not fair to judge someone for what they _might_ do, however likely you think it is.”

“I believe,” he went on, “that it is therefore only just that when I am king I repeal the ban on magic.”

He turned once more to Merlin and took his hands.

“I believe in our destiny,” he finished.

Merlin smiled at him.

There was total silence in the cave.

Merlin and Arthur looked nervously at the Disir.

The three of them stood still as statues.

Would it have to come to an attack after all?

“Step into the circle,” the middle figure said suddenly, and a golden hoop of light appeared on the ground.

Merlin and Arthur stepped nervously into it. At once, the circle rose into a curtain of gold and silver around them.

“The curse must first be transferred back to its original recipient and true owner before it can be broken,” the Disir said, “transfer the curse.”

“What?” Arthur said, screwing up his face in confusion.

“She means give it back to me,” Merlin said.

“Obviously Merlin!” Arthur snapped, “How??”

“Er....” Merlin thought hard. “Wait, it was when I grabbed your hand at the Isle of the Blessed that you first got struck down right? Maybe we have to hold hands.”

Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hand and threaded his fingers through them, closing his eyes. Nothing happened.

“What?” Merlin said, perplexed. “I thought that would work!”

“Maybe,” Arthur said softly, “maybe it needs something stronger this time.”

“Like what?”

Arthur tugged Merlin forward until they were standing nose to nose and flicked his tongue lightly over Merlin’s lips.

“Oh,” Merlin said softly, and his mouth fell open.

Arthur snaked one hand around his waist, sucking Merlin’s bottom lip into his mouth when all of a sudden Merlin shuddered.

Fire was pouring through his veins, thousands of ants were biting under his skin and dimly he thought he could hear the echo of the roar of a terrible Beast.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked, letting go.

“It’s back,” he gasped, “the curse is back.”

“What now?” Arthur roared at the Disir, but Merlin groaned.

Pain such as he had never known was travelling up his body from his feet. It felt as a cold, giant hand was grabbing him and trying to squeeze his insides out through his mouth, squeezing his entire body through a grinder.

Unable to bear it, Merlin collapsed, vision blurring.

“Merlin?!” Arthur cried, dropping to his side.

But Merlin couldn’t see. His entire vision was nothing but gold. His eyes were burning, his mouth was burning and, finally, his mouth was wrenched open as wide as it would go by an invisible force and something gold and light spilled out of it, forming a long, thin, coiling rope that hung in mid-air.

Arthur watched the rope, transfixed, as Merlin shuddered on the ground, feeling as though his very soul was being dragged forcefully out of him.

Finally, every last piece of light left Merlin’s body and joined the glowing coil suspended in the air.

Merlin gasped, unable to breathe properly. The rope spun slowly in mid-air, turning round as though on a wheel.

“Look,” Arthur said, pointing.

It was difficult to discern amongst all the light but wrapped around the golden rope was a very thin, very fine black string.

Merlin watched, still choking for air, as slowly, from the top down, the black string began to unravel itself from the golden rope.

It uncoiled, faster and faster until finally, the black string hung suspended in mid-air, separate from the golden light, and began to fray. It frayed and frayed, splitting itself down the middle until there was nothing left of it but a pile of dust on the floor.

Merlin gasped. He couldn’t breathe! Every breath felt like taking water, not air into his lungs. He was drowning on dry land!

Just as he began to panic however, the golden lowered and began coiling itself around Merlin’s feet. As it coiled, it lifted them into the air, suspending them without any effort on his part; now it was wrapping itself around his legs, raising them too, then his torso, and finally, his arms and neck, and his whole body was levitated off the ground.

Merlin’s head was briefly left hanging until he felt it being drawn up as though by an invisible hand, but he knew it was the rope.

It wrapped itself around his head and passed over his face. His vision once more went gold, and his mouth was opened wide against his will, but this time the rope was diving _down_ his throat, like swallowing a giant snake.

As more of the rope made its way into Merlin’s body, more of it was drawn from the coils around his legs and body until finally, there was no rope wrapped around him, and he was left hanging in mid-air.

Suddenly he felt a tingling warmth spread through him as his magic reconnected with his body. He saw his entire body flash briefly gold before the magic holding him suspended faded and he fell to the floor with a thud like a puppet cut from its strings.

“Merlin!” Arthur cried, lifting him up.

Merlin wheezed for several moments, winded.

“Well,” he said finally, “that was uncomfortable.”

Arthur managed a weak laugh as the gold and silver curtain of the circle they were in faded, leaving them lying on the ground before the Disir.

Arthur scrambled quickly to his feet, helping Merlin up.

“It is done,” they chorused.

***

Merlin and Arthur waited till they were outside the cave before wrapping each other up in a hug.

“Thank you,” Merlin whispered. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Likewise,” Arthur said.

“You wouldn’t even have been cursed if it wasn’t for me!”

“Don’t Merlin,” Arthur said, “you need to stop blaming yourself for everything. I know they made you believe you were going to be responsible for all the evil of the world but...that’s not going to happen, and it never did.”

Merlin smiled.

“Thanks to you. That was quite a speech,”

“Well,” Arthur said, shrugging, “I’m a quite a good liar when I need to be, what can I say.”

“So none of that was true?” Merlin said with a grin.

“Not a bit,” Arthur replied. “Especially that part about believing in you. Well, that’s not completely true. I do believe in you. I believe in your ability to be the worst servant in Camelot, and to scare away all the game when we go hunting, and to _never_ do as you’re told, and tell the _worst_ jokes known to man, and _always_ look scruffy when you come in to work. And I believe you’ll continue being an embarrassment to me from now until the end of my days.”

“I’ll be there at the end of your days then?” Merlin said.

Arthur stopped and looked at him.

“Of course,” he said softly. “Together. Always.”

Merlin smiled.

“Oh get that sappy look off your face,” Arthur said gruffly, walking away again and blushing.

Merlin laughed.

They spent the rest of the afternoon experimenting with Merlin walking far away from Arthur and performing feats of magic just because he could.

They decided to stay out and camp in a meadow instead of rushing back to Camelot so that Merlin could once more enjoy the stars for the first time in years.

And later that night, Arthur took Merlin up on the offer he’d made in bed the morning after he traded his life to Nimueh for Arthur’s.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, lying flat on his back staring up at the night sky.

“Mmm?”

“When we get back to Camelot, things are going to be different. My father will never change, but that doesn’t mean I can’t start helping people who really need it.”

“Like how?” Merlin asked sleepily.

“Like putting out little feelers amongst the knights to find those who are loyal to me not my father. Spreading the word amongst them and anyone else who I feel will listen that not all magic users are bad. Putting the guards and knights most sympathetic to them in charge of the arrest of sorcerers, maybe set up a secret system to smuggle them out. Maybe I’ll see if I can find a way to contact the druids, offer them peace for the future.”

“What do you think?” he asked, rolling over to look at Merlin.

Merlin smiled.

“I think,” he said, “that our destiny has officially begun.”

 

 

_Finis_


End file.
